Salvation of the Damned
by Lord22
Summary: The Burning Legion is broken. Now only the shattered remnants of their control over Lordaeron stands in Arthas' way. But even as he moves to reforge Lordaeron, the specter of Ner'zhul rises once more. For an old rival seeks to seize control of the Scourge and will suffer no interference from Arthas. ArthasXAlexstrasza.
1. King Arthas

**Chapter One: King Arthas**

Alexstrasza the Lifebinder stood in the heart of darkness. Once it had been a place of life and beauty, adorned with blue banners and guarded by soldiers in shining mail. Servants, courtiers, merchants, and all the rest walked the halls.

Now they had died or fled. She brushed a strand of red hair from her brow sadly as she observed those who ruled in place of a good king. It was three demons.

They were pale-faced, with black horns and long claws. All were clad in fine clothes. The largest, Balnazzar lounged on the throne of King Terenas, sipping a glass of blood. Varimathras, clad in crimson, was at his right hand. And Detheroc in green was leaning against a torn curtain on the wall, arms crossed.

"It's been months since we heard from Lord Archimonde," said Detheroc. "I grow tired of watching over these rotting undead! What are we still doing here?"

"We were charged with overseeing this land, Detheroc.," said Balnazzar. "It is our duty to remain here and ensure that the Scourge is ready for action."

"True, though we should have received some kinds of orders by now," noted Varimathras.

Alexstrasza turned from the window of the secret passage and looked to Kel'thuzad. It was a bitter irony that Alexstrasza should find herself in league with the undead. And working against a race that was among her most beloved. "It amazes me that these Dreadlords could be so out of touch that they do not even realize what has happened." The news has been spreading through your cultists for months."

Kel'thuzad was unphased. "Their ignorance is a subject I find impossible to understand myself. However, the longer they remain in command, the more they run the Scourge into the ground."

Then, suddenly, the doors were struck. They shuddered beneath a blow, and the Dreadlord's looked up. Again they struck, and the doors cracked. Alexstrasza sighed. "He does have a sense of dramatics, doesn't he?"

A final blow was struck, and the doors broke open. Arthas Menethil strode into the hall, clad in the garb of a paladin. His cloak was white as he strode forward, Frostmourne gleaming brightly in his hand.

Behind him came the Cult of the Damned and many lesser undead. The Detheroc backed away to stand at Balnazzar's left as all exits were cut off. Arthas bowed sarcastically. "Greetings, Dreadlords. I should thank you for looking after my kingdom during my absence. However, I won't be requiring your services any longer."

"Prince Arthas!" said Balnazzar.

"This land is ours!" said Detheroc. "The scourge belongs to the Legion!"

Varimathras said nothing and seemed to be calculating.

"Not anymore, demon," said Arthas. "Your masters have been defeated. The Legion is undone. Your deaths will complete the circle."

"Never!" said Detheroc as the ghouls converged. "This isn't over, human!"

There was a flash of green, and they were gone.

Kel'thuzad and Alexstrasza looked at each other. Then the Lich motioned and teleported down to stand before Arthas. "At last, the matter is concluded, Prince Arthas."

"I am aware," said Arthas. "However, you will now address me as King. This is, after all, my land."

"Long live King Arthas!" called a cultist female.

"LONG LIVE THE KING!" cried the other undead that could speak. "LONG LIVE THE KING! LONG LIVE THE KING!" Those that could not roared instead.

The call was taken up, and the undead, ghoul and human alike cried in triumph. Arthas smiled as the cheers resounded throughout the undead infested city. Alexstrasza had never seen such enthusiasm from undead before.

"Now we must secure the Kingdom by forcing the last remaining humans to bend the knee," said Arthas as it died down. "Alexstrasza, were you successful in arranging a meeting?"

"Yes, I was," said Alexstrasza. "Magroth the Defender leads the paladins near to the capital city. He has long been a thorn in the Dreadlord's side. However, he has little love for you, and you will be hard-pressed to gain his friendship."

"I do not need his friendship. Merely his submission," said Arthas.

"That may be difficult to gain, Prince Arthas," said Kel'thuzad. "Perhaps an assassination-"

"No. That will set a bad precedent," said Arthas.

"As you wish," said Arthas. "Serena, take charge of restoring this matter. See to it that none of the Dreadlord's servants escape with their lives. Those who have betrayed the Scourge deserve no mercy.

"Alexstrasza, Kel'thuzad, we will set out with an army at once."

"An army?" asked Alexstrasza. "To what end?"

"I would not put it past the Alliance to murder me in parley," said Arthas. "I want an army nearby when I do."

And so they left. Alexstrasza walked with the King. Wherever they went in the streets, the undead rejoiced. It was a dark mirror, a twisted inverse of what Alexstrasza thought of as good. Here was a Prince, beloved by his people being hailed for liberating them from slavery. And yet his people were flesh-eating undead fueled by unholy magic. Their tyrants were even fouler demons. And the freedom they sought was to destroy all that lived.

It disturbed her. Far more than it would have if he'd been a dreadlord, who cared nothing for his servants. What greater threat was there than a virtuous knight in pursuit of evil?

Soon they left the gates, and Arthas was riding. As he rode, she walked beside him. She was unsure how to regard him. "Arthas, do you regret your past actions?"

He looked up in surprise. "No."

Alexstrasza managed to hide her surprise at that. She failed. She supposed she ought to have chiding words for him, but she didn't feel she was in a position to judge. She might proclaim that she must stop him, but they were allies at the moment. "Why not?" Was all she managed to say.

"The Alliance had it coming," said Arthas with a shrug. "The trolls joined the Horde because we were chipping away at their territory. After the Second War, the High Elves slaughtered the trolls in an outright genocide. No one cared.

"Even the Cult of the Damned was drawn from the people who the Alliance were tyrannizing over."

"Is that the only reason?" asked Alexstrasza.

"No," said Arthas. "I've always tried to see the bigger picture when I act. Burning Stratholme will haunt me to the end of my life. But I don't regret doing it because it was the only way to stop Mal'ganis from gaining an unstoppable army. No one else provided any alternatives that would work.

"I did what was necessary. I got my hands dirty.

"Same principle."

"But the people of Stratholme were doomed," said Alexstrasza. "Surely destroying your own kingdom must have seemed… different to you."

"Why would it?" asked Arthas. "I admit it wasn't pleasant, but in retrospect, it was an essential part of the plan to kill Archimonde. I saw what he was capable of myself.

"And even if I did regret what I did, what should I do? Beg for the Alliance's forgiveness? They'd kill me without a second thought and go right back to murdering Forest Troll villages. Go into hermitage and whine about my failures? I think we both have better uses for our time.

"No, you'll find no teary proclamations of regret from me. I accept what I have done and what it entails. Besides, if the orcs are excused their actions, so am I."

Alexstrasza looked at him in a new light. She wasn't sure how to regard this. Here was a man for whom pragmatism was morality. That which was best for the greatest number of people was the right thing to do, and all else was a luxury. "If that is the case, are you trying to make amends for your actions?"

"In a manner of speaking," said Arthas.

Alexstrasza considered him. She tried to sense his intentions, but his heart was cold and closed off. "What are your goals in all this?"

Arthas considered that. "To reestablish my power over Lordaeron and unite all the races within into a single power. Not just human, but troll and undead. I will make a new nation, more powerful than any before it."

"To what end?" asked Alexstrasza.

"My own power and also to finish crushing the Alliance," said Arthas.

"And yet you are making peace with them," said Alexstrasza.

"I am ending civil war between my people," said Arthas. "One that the Alliance is directly responsible for." He looked away. "The Alliance is a symbol. Symbols are given power by the people who fight for what that symbol represents.

"And what does the Alliance represent in your view?" asked Alexstrasza.

"Brutality, genocide, narrowmindedness, disloyalty, and ultimately, failure," said Arthas. "It clung to its ideals when those ideals sabotaged success. And it betrayed those ideals when it ought to have held firm. If their priority was safety for the member nations, Father ought to have purged the orcs and been done with it.

"If he put his priority on creating a utopia, why did they inflict such brutality on the Forest Trolls? Why were orcs in internment camps treated like animals, rather than human beings? Why was Alterac treated with such brutality? My Father wanted to be a benevolent king. But the taxes levied to pay for the internment camps were half responsible for the Cult of the Damned."

Alexstrasza marveled at him. Arthas had looked on one of two great hopes for Azeroth in the grand plan of the Dragon Aspects. And he had disregarded it as a petty tyranny destined and deserving of destruction. She was almost impressed. "And what will this Kingdom of Undeath you create offer in its place?"

"It won't be a kingdom of undeath," said Arthas. "If I pursued the dream of destroying all life ingrained in us by the Legion, it would destroy us. Once there are no more living creatures, there will be no more corpses. Undeath needs life to survive.

"No, I will not wipe out other races. I will not even force them to worship me. I will create a coalition of races — one where all who are part of it will have an equal say. No more will the Kirin Tor be able to experiment on sentient creatures. Neither will Forest Trolls and Gnolls be free to raid and pillage.

"Disputes will be mediated in council."

Alexstrasza was surprised at this. Arthas had struck her as one obsessed with having control over his situation. Perhaps as a response to his loss of control. And yet he seemed to want to create a loose coalition, founded on similar ideas to the Alliance. But one that held true to the original vision. "And how will you reign over the humans? Surely you do not think they will accept you?"

Arthas shrugged. "I will not rule humankind directly. That much I am certain of. I will take a role as High King, and I will ensure the peace between the races is kept. I will let the races mind their own affairs, but I will have a hold over them.

"I will order things in pursuit if peace and prosperity. The undead shall be my army for this purpose."

"And with this peace, how will you maintain the flow of corpses?" asked Alexstrasza. "You need them to maintain the undead."

"All who dwell within my realms will be free to choose to become undead in exchange for service," said Arthas. "As for the less desirable states of undeath, ghouls shall be created from the corpses of criminals. Murderers and thieves who will work off their crimes in the service of our army."

Alexstrasza found herself both impressed and slightly horrified. Undeath as both a form of ascension and also a punishment. "This seems well thought out.

"Do you believe the paladins will accept such a policy?"

"Not at once," admitted Arthas. "But in time I hope to create a nation where all the races of Lordaeron coexist."

Alexstrasza saw before her many paths leading from this moment. Good and ill, each one with its own heroes and villains. But for the moment, she found she approved of the motives within this place. She smiled at him. "It is an ambitious project, young king. But Camesaeron seems a dream worth seeking."

"Camesaeron?" asked Arthas, voice surprised.

"In the ancient Arathorian Tongue it is translated as Arthas' Kingdom," said Alexstrasza.

"I know," said Arthas. Alexstrasza turned from the line and walked away. She was interested to see where Arthas' story led.

* * *

A few days later, Arthas found he missed Alexstrasza.

She was easy on the eyes for one thing, with her majestic beauty and ample curves. More importantly, however, she was one of the few people around him who was not a rotting corpse. He had long since grown used to dealing with such things, but the contrast had ben a welcome change of pace.

It helped that she neither put on heirs of righteousness or judged him. She seemed more interested in understanding. He had not expected her to accept his ambitions so readily. Self-righteous condemnation was something he had grown used to rejecting out of hand. However, she had seemed merely to challenge him to do what he proclaimed he would. Almost interested to see if he would. Arthas did not intend to disappoint her.

"We are nearing the pass where we are meant to meet the humans., said Kel'thuzad. "He will meet us there."

"Leave the troops some ways behind," said Arthas. "We will cross over alone."

Death Knight and Lich made their way into the pass. The hills on either side were high and rocky. Climbing over either would be trouble. And at the chokepoint There they saw Magroth the Defender standing by, hammer in hand. "There he is," said Kel'thuzad as they neared. "Let us hope that Magroth the Defender is in a conciliatory mood-"

"Arthas, you wear your father's crown as though you earned it." scoffed Magroth. "You may kill me, but my brethren will never stop hounding you."

"-nevermind," said Kel'thuzad.

Arthas opened his mouth to speak.

"Whatever demands you make, we will never stop defending Lordaeron!" proclaimed Magroth, his paladins yelling affirmations. "We will never give up! If you seek our submission, you will not get it! If you seek battle, then come traitor and taste the wrath of-"

"I am willing to formally acknowledge you are the rulers of this region of Lordaeron," said Arthas flatly.

Magroth fell silent. Murmurs broke out among the paladins. They obviously had not been expecting this. Finally, Magroth looked back to him. "What do you mean?"

Arthas sighed. "I am here to negotiate. Negotiation traditionally involves both factions giving something up. Do you really think I would have arranged a meeting with you simply to gloat and make demands?

"If I were interested in giving an ultimatum I would have given it after I killed you. I'm fully aware they will have no effect on paladins."

"What trickery is this, then?" asked Magroth.

"Put down your hammer and discuss it with me," said Arthas. "Then you may feel free to make a judgment on the subject."

Magroth lowered his hammer. But he did not drop it. "Say what you will, we will listen."

"The Dreadlord's are driven from the capital," said Arthas. "The Scourge has arisen to overthrow them, and now I am the leader of the undead. Very soon I will have purged the remaining demonic loyalists. I have many allies already, the Forest Trolls and the Ogre Legion. Even the remnants of Alterac.

"Once the Dreadlord's have been swept away, the pressure will be on me to claim all that remains of Lordaeron. However, I do not desire that. I have freed myself from the Lich King; I have no desire to become a new one."

"You betrayed the Kirin Tor," said Magroth.

True, but Arthas doubted Magroth had proof. "Who told you as much?"

"Who else could have managed such a thing?" asked Magroth. "The Forest Trolls all departed once it happened."

"An experimental magical portal can collapse on itself," noted Arthas. "As for the Forest Trolls, do you blame them? Grand Marshall Garithos is well known for his racism. They had no desire to remain in his service.

"But this is not relevant. I do not wish to rule over humanity as king. That time has long passed. But if I am not perceived to rule over them, the pressure will be to wipe you out."

"What do you want, then?" asked Magroth.

How many times was he going to ask that in different words? "You and your order will pledge loyalty to me when I at last rule over Lordaeron. You will then be left in place to rule over the domains you protect as Lords. We may negotiate the details once all that has been achieved.

For now, all that I ask is that we create a truce. No more undead will go against your forces. In return, you will not longer persecute members of the Cult of the Damned, or raid our forces."

Magroth turned and spoke with his paladins. Arthas was annoyed that he was not asked for time to confer with his associates. There was no good reason for Magroth to refuse. If Arthas wiped out the Dreadlords, they could gather strength whether he kept his word or not. If the Dreadlords defeated Arthas, they'd be weakened and the paladins no worse off.

Of course, paladins were not chosen for their skill at negotiation. They were a hammer and the undead until recently had been the ultimate nail. Arthas was just about ready to order a retreat when Magroth turned to him. "Very well then, Arthas. We will defend against any assaults with our lives, but we will not attack you. However, we are not blind. Should the Silver Hand see that you are purging the living, you will suffer our wrath."

"Of course," said Arthas. "As of today, the vendetta between us is put on hold."

And so Kel'thuzad and Arthas returned to their army. Arthas allowed himself to smile as he returned. "At last we have taken the Alliance out of the fight! Once we've gathered our forces, we should be-"

And then agony seized him. He fell from Invincible's back and hit the ground. Reeling, he saw a vision. A black-cloaked figure moved toward a suit of armor, lying broke and surrounded by ice. A voice echoed within his thoughts.

"My champion, I have awaited your arrival." said a voice within his mind. "Soon our powers will be as one…"

The Lich King.

Arthas was pulled up and fell forward to kneel on Kel'thuzad's shoulder. "My King, you are not well."

"Take me back to the capital," said Arthas. "We'll finish our business here and make preparations to make. I must speak with Alexstrasza soon."

Things had just become far more complicated.

* * *

** Author's Note:**

Well, here is the first chapter of Legacy of Salvation, the next installment of the Mercyverse. I've had this one well planned out from the very beginning. What I didn't count on was Alexstrasza's presence. I'm afraid there has been something of an aborted arc in this series, though it will probably come up later. I went to all the trouble of foreshadowing a character in place of undead Sylvanas, and then Alexstrasza just sort of walks in.

For now, enjoy.

In case you missed the reference, Camesaeron is a reference to Camelot. I felt that it was necessary for a new name to be brought in for what Arthas intends to build. It is more or less unprecedented within the context of Azeroth.


	2. The Battle of Tirisfal

**Chapter Two: The Battle of Tirisfal**

The town of Vandemar had been where Arthas had begun his campaign against Lordaeron. It marked where he first gained command of the undead. Where the battles had turned against the Alliance and where the world had begun to shift.

Now it was where a meeting with Princess Calia was to be held.

Of course, it had changed a great deal. Fortifications had been erected, and more soldiers had come to be posted. A constant vigil was kept on him as he crossed over the border and he doubted he'd have had anywhere near as easy a time subverting it like last time. It represented an important strategic position. One that the Legion had failed to take, thanks to bolstering from the Kingdom of Strahnbrad. Not to mention the fledgling Scarlet Crusade. Now the once-blighted landscape had been partially healed. The trees were beginning to return, satisfying the part of him that still liked the Alliance.

Slowing Invincible to a halt, Arthas dismounted to lead the horse toward Calia. She was sitting at a table before a blue pavilion, emblazoned with the symbol of Lordaeron. With her was Archmage Antonidas and Rhonin. Arthas let go of the bridal and took hold of Frostmourne with his off-hand, noting the footmen around them.

"It has been a long time, Calia," said Arthas, unsure of how to continue.

Calia looked a bit thinner, but she remained beautiful. Her blonde hair was tied behind her neck, and her face went white as Arthas sat down. "You have no right to wear that crown, Arthas. Our Father-"

"Completely mismanaged the situation. Thus leading to my corruption and the Third War escalating into a full-blown conflict," said Arthas, finding his gauntlet more interesting than the conversation. Best just to get the reunion over with. If all she had to say to him were speeches on how evil he was, he might as well get to the point. "I've heard these speeches more times than I'd like. They stopped being effective years ago, and now are simply irritating.

"I might note that plenty of sons killed their father's before the ascension of Terenas Menethil. He was more the exception than the rule. Moreover, you are sheltering with a man with who gained the position of King by strength alone. Wilhelm has no legitimate titles to speak of.

"I hardly think you can be excused entirely from blame on the usurping front, sister."

"King Wilhelm gained his throne by popular demand in the absence of any other power," said Calia, unimpressed. "You ran your father through the throat and sent his land into chaos."

"The demons made me do it, and destiny said so," said Arthas, rolling his actions. "My actions were not my responsibility. In fact, I think I should be rewarded and thanked for not killing everyone in the kingdom. Don't think Frostmourne wasn't pushing for it.

"Where is Krasus?"

"Surely you don't think we'd bring our entire command staff within striking distance of you, do you?" asked Calia.

Arthas smiled. "Good precaution. Anything from you, Rhonin?"

"No," said Rhonin.

"No, no, surely you must have a self-righteous hypocritical speech to make," said Arthas. "I'd like to get them all out of the way so we can actually discuss the business of the realm."

"What realm?" asked Antonidas. "Lordaeron is shattered. You've seen to that?"

Finally, they were getting on topic. "In three months I will have reunited it. I've already put everything in place I need to arrange it."

"Then what are you coming to us for?" asked Calia.

"Simply put, I'd much rather make arrangements now then have to kill my own blood later," said Arthas. "I have plans, you see. The Lordaeron I envision will not be one state under one King, but a league of many smaller states. All will have their own regional government and leaders. I will merely take the place of High King, a war leader in times of crisis, and a mediator in times of peace."

"And you want me to bend the knee." guessed Calia.

"Of course," said Arthas. "But I have no intention of making threats. You see, we have a common enemy in Lord Garithos. His ideals represent the antithesis of everything my new order will represent. I require cooperation between the races. And so long as he is spewing speeches of hate and intolerance, there will always be strife."

"And what has this to do with us?" asked Antonidas. "The Kirin Tor is not at the beck and call of the throne of Lordaeron."

"Simple enough, Lord Antonidas," said Arthas. "I will break Garithos' power and return Dalaran to you. In return, you will agree to an alliance. I will provide military support to ensure no more incidents like these happen again."

"What's the catch?" asked Rhonin.

Arthas supposed some more information might help garner trust. "I'm going to remove Garithos far more quickly than you imagine possible."

"…Meaning?" asked Calia.

Too much would ruin things. "Just what I said. I have plans in place, based on intelligence, I will not reveal to you. It will make my reconquest of Dalaran a simple matter. I'll say no more than that."

"Give us some time to consider your offer," said Antonidas.

"And find any traps that might be waiting in it." muttered Rhonin a bit too loud.

Arthas sighed and stood up. "You have until the battle is won, Antonidas. And that will be the case by the time we're in the same room together. So you really have until I reach my horse because after that I'll be too busy to meet with anyone. Otherwise, I'll keep Dalaran when I take it and offer you a worse deal."

"You cannot simply-" began Calia.

Arthas started walking toward his horse. He was not feeling particularly well disposed to anyone in the Alliance. He half expected them to betray him anyway. And he was sick of them lecturing him on how evil he was, even though they were no better.

"Arthas, get back here and negotiate!" snapped Calia. "This is unbefitting a King!"

Arthas halted and put his hand over the bridle. Then he glanced back to them. "May I be blunt? I'm tired of being insulted and called traitor every time I hold a meeting. If you are not going to treat me with a semblance of courtesy I see no reason why I should give any in return. This is your last chance Antonidas. I have battles to fight."

"Damn you, we accept!" said Antonidas.

Arthas nodded and pulled himself onto his horse before nodding. "Glad to hear it. I'll send you a letter once I fix all our problems. Invincible, we have other places to be! Onward!" Then he urged Invincible forward at a breakneck speed.

He left Vandemar behind him, speeding over the landscape. On some level, he reflected he should have been more patient. But if they were going to open things by accusing him of treason, he wasn't going to dignify them with a long meeting. And he was pressed for time in any case. Reports from the eastern plaguelands were that things needed his personal attention.

The plaguelands came before him. He entered the Tirisfal Glades, marched by the sky changing from blue to a sickly greenish. Soon that sickly greenish day gave way to black and starless night. Making his way through the southern fortifications, he rode along the King's road. Soon he came before the meeting ground and found Dar'khan waiting for him. As he rode forward, Dar'khan removed his hat and bowed. Behind him were many hundreds of ghouls and dozens of banshees. More were coming from down the road.

"Prince Arthas, only your presence was lacking from the battlefield," said Dar'khan. "It will be a glorious day that comes with the rising of the sun."

"One can only hope," said Arthas as he dismounted. "Or we'll be looking very silly when we fail. Are they here?'

"Indeed, the hosts of the Ogre Legion and Blackthorn are approaching as we speak," said Dar'khan. "They should be here within the day.

"However, I fear that knowledge of our rising has been leaked. Even as we speak, Varimathras is on his way with his assembled hosts. We may face a battle before we are fully assembled."

"And what of the Forest Trolls?" asked Arthas.

"They are delayed, I am told," said Dar'khan.

"I see," said Arthas. "Where is Alexstrasza? She planned to gather additional support. Has there been any word of it?"

Dar'khan shook his head. "No, King Arthas."

Arthas was glad he'd come when he had. He turned his gaze northeast of the hill, across the river and looked at the blighted landscape. There in the distance was Varimathras' fortress, extending across the far side. Numerous ziggurats stood with spirit towers ready to fire on any who came. And he could see the forces gathering there in great numbers.

"Then we are exposed," said Arthas.

Then he felt the veil of reality tearing. Drawing Frostmourne he turned to where Varimathras was emerging. The red-clad dreadlord bowed. "Greetings, Prince Arthas, I come as an envoy from the Dreadlord's. We… did not fully appreciate the contributions made by your forces in the war against Azeroth. We wish to offer you a position of power worthy of your talents.'

"This ought to be amusing," said Arthas. "What is your offer?"

"Full control over the Capital City of Lordaeron. As well as mastery over the entire western plaguelands," said Varimathras. "A full third of all territory gained on this continent and-"

Arthas laughed. "A third? "Varimathras, you are a fool. Why should I settle for a third of that which is rightfully mine? I will claim it all by this sword. You can fall in line, or be swept aside.

"Make your choice, Dreadlord."

Varimathras remained silent. "Careful, Death Knight. We have powers you do not yet comprehend, and not only the dead are our puppets. If you do not submit to the Legion, then you will be destroyed in turn.

"You do not seriously think this ragtag group of ghouls will defeat the Legion?"

"It will do far more than that," said Arthas. "I will gladly accept your surrender if you offer it. Failing that, cease wasting my time."

Varimathras remained silent. "…So be it, our reply will come soon."

And he faded away.

"They're getting desperate," said Arthas.

"If I were King Arthas, I would accept it, then expand my power later," said Dar'khan.

"But you are not," said Arthas, sheathing Frostmourne.

And so they waited, assembling spirit towers to defend the hill. The armies of Varimathras continued to gather across the river. Then, sure enough, Blackthorn and his men came. The Bandit Lord of Alterac rode forward with his assembled forces. He was a tall man with a mustache and wielded a huge sword in hand. His men behind him were a shabby, rough, and ready sort. They wielded axes and javelins. Their only protection was hide armor and small shields, but every bit helped.

"Hail, King Arthas of Lordaeron!" called Blackthorn as he rode forward. "I am Blackthorn of the Remnants of Alterac! We have come to bring our swords to your service against the Dreadlords!"

Then from the other side came a host of ogres, wielding clubs made from saplings. The ground shook as they lumbered forward. And at their head was a huge ogre clad in black armor, wielding a mace. "And me Mug'thol! Me big ogre strongman! Smash puny dead!"

"I am glad to have you with us," said Arthas. "But has there been any word from Zul'jin."

"The forest troll appears to have been having difficulty gathering his people," said Dar'khan. "The local strongman, Zul'rogg, is defiant."

"Then we must make our plans without him and hope he arrives in time," said Arthas, looking through the shades eyes.

He saw Varimathras' armies marching. Even now they were crossing the bridge, and they were a vast host, headed by a huge force of abominations. Ghouls were behind and with them were many necromancers and crypt fiends. They were far greater in number than those Arthas' had gathered here.

"What is it?" asked Blackthorn.

"Varimathras is crossing the river in numbers far greater than I was expecting," said Arthas. "It seems the Dreadlords are putting forth a large part of their strength against us. This battle will be a decisive one.

"Mug'thol, form you're up upon the hill before the spirit towers on the north side! Blackthorn, have your skirmishers form up in front of Mu'gthols warriors. When the enemy comes, hurl your spears and retreat behind the mainline. Your melee warriors will stand by as a reserve. Dar'khan, I want our ghouls to shore up the ogres and act as a defensive screen. Have your obsidian statues stand by and heal any who need it."

"As you command," said Dar'khan.

And so the organization of the battle began. It was difficult coordinating former enemies to arrange the formation. Arthas became increasingly concerned that they would be overrun before they were ready. During this, the spirits of a number of ghostly elven maidens came forward. "Great King, allow us to serve you. We were created by Dar'khan to spread disarray among his enemies. By your will, they may possess key combatants among the enemy fighters to sew chaos in their ranks."

"Then do so," said Arthas.

Varimathras' armies were in sight now for even the everyday soldiers. Arthas rode before his forces, sword upraised. "Steady yourselves, my warriors! On this day, we break the power of the Dreadlords! On this day we will all be kings!"

"For Alterac!" called Blackthorn.

"For Ogre Legion!" cried Mug'thol. "For King Arthas!" cried Dar'khan,

Roars of enthusiasm came forward as Varimathras' forces stormed forward. The Dreadlord halted them before the fortifications and raised a hand. His fingers swirled with a vortex of fire. "Onward minions! Destroy the traitors!"

There was a snarling roar from the Dreadlord's forces. Then the vortex of fire was sent flying toward the main defenses. Arthas raised a hand and sent forth a spell to counter it. Magic met magic, and there was an explosion of magic, even as the army rushed toward his forces. Javelins landed among them, planting in abominations and killing ghouls. Arthas dismounted and sent Invincible away as the tide came toward him.

Swinging Frostmourne, he cleaved through a line of ghouls even as the ogres rushed to battle. Many corpses were created. The necromancers of Varimathras began to raise the bodies of the dead. But even as they did the banshees surged out from nowhere to possess many of them. Soon the enemy line was in chaos as Arthas hacked and slashed his way through his enemies.

He spotted Mug'thol and Blackthorn fighting together. They were hewing down one undead after another. One of the abominations cleaved an ogres head in, even as another ogre beat the creature down with a club. Ghouls and bandits fought together, as more and more spears were thrown.

Amidst this, Varimathras moved, hurling flames of fire that consumed clusters of enemies. Raising a hand, the Dreadlord cast a spell. One of Blackthorn's men screamed as a demon burst from his body, revealing a huge doomguard. The beast began to cleave down his enemies.

Raising Frostmourne, Arthas summoned the bodies of his enemies as ghosts. They fell on their former comrades and tore them apart. In the same movement, he resurrected many of those who had died on his side. Sending a wave of light, he burned away many hostile undead, then ran toward Varimthras.

As he did, he saw more reinforcements coming down the path to wash against their armies. Varimathras was wielding a huge axe. As he approached, brought it around to clash with Frostmourne. In a flurry of blows, Arthas drove him back, before locking blades, so they were face to face. "You've overplayed your hand, Dreadlord. A mistake you won't live to regret."

"You should have joined us, Arthas," said Varimathras, shoving him back and attacking back. "Your meaningless defiance will cost you dearly."

Arthas turned the axe and moved a foot forward to knock one of Varimathras' feet off-center. "I have already paid such a price as you could not comprehend." Bringing around the haft of his sword, he smashed Varimathras' across the face. "Nothing you can do could harm me." Varimathras fell backward. As Arthas stabbed downward, he rolled aside and sent a wave of fire at Arthas. But a divine shield ensured the fire did very little. Both of them were breathing. "Foolish Death Knight! You think you can match the might of the Dreadlords!"

"Considering the fact that I killed Tichondrius with my own hands, yes," said Arthas.

Varimathras' eyes widened. "Impossible!"

At that moment the sun rose over the hilltops, bathing the world in a new light. Alexstrasza appeared from the trees. A staff was in her hand, and her red hair was flowing around her as her hips swayed. Varimathras looked up in shock.

"What is this?" "Behold, the dawn rises!" cried Alexstrasza, raising the staff. "Go forth, creatures of Tirisfal! Wipe the undead who blight this land away!" And out of the trees came hundreds of creatures. There were gnolls and murlocs and common animals. Lesser birds, from hawks to doves streamed out to attack the hosts of Varimathras from behind. Stags and wolves ran side by side to overrun the undead as life itself arose against the Legion.

Varimathras did not panic. The Dreadlord flapped his wings and flew forward to rally his forces as they were driven in.

"Retreat!" called Varimathras. "Fall back to our bastion!"

But even as the retreat began, the forest trolls appeared at the bridge. They unleashed volleys of axes and spears into the enemy lines. More and more of them came as the noose was tightened.

"For Zul'jin!" called the trolls. "For da forest trolls!"

Surrounded on all sides, Varimathras' forces were systematically cut down. The Dreadlord rallied his forces as best he could, fighting valiantly. The first assault was repulsed, but Varimathras' armies would not sustain another strike. Arthas came forward as a silence fell over the dwindling army.

"The sands of time have run out for the Legion, Varimathras," said Arthas.

"Arthas, spare my life," said Varimathras. "I beg you! I can be of service— I swear it!" "So you can stab me as soon as my back is turned?" scoffed Arthas. "I think not." He raised his sword, but a hand came to his shoulder. He glanced up to see Alexstrasza.

"Peace, Arthas," said Alexstrasza. "We may at least listen to what he has to say."

Arthas turned back to Varimathras, who raised his hands. "I know what my brothers' plans are. I know where their forces are based. Just let me serve you, and I'll help you defeat him."

Arthas considered that if he didn't accept his surrender, he'd have to kill his warriors. He lowered his sword. "…So be it." He motioned to his warriors. "Take him to a cell to await until my pleasure is known."

Then he turned to Alexstrasza. "You are well met, Alexstrasza." His gaze turned to where the birds were returning from whence they came. "Are these those you spoke of?"

"Yes, these are the other races who dwell within this place," said Alexstrasza. "They have united to aid you against the common enemy of all who live."

"Then they are well met," said Arthas, before seeing a familiar forest troll, making his way through the crowds. "Zul'jin, your timing was excellent."

"I be figuring that since we be running late, better to cut off der line o retreat," said Zul'jin with a smirk.

"A fortuitous insight," said Arthas. He wondered if Zul'jin hadn't been waiting to see how things turned out first.

With Varimathras' surrender and the defeat of his army, his bastion was quick to surrender.

* * *

The Battle of the Tirisfal Glades had been a rush job. With the return of Ner'zhul Arthas had been forced to throw his plans together far more quickly. It had been a serious risk, but the results had been spectacular. Before he had even mobilized his army, Arthas had delivered a crushing blow to the Dreadlords.

Now his forces belonged to Arthas and the local creatures were waiting for an offer.

And so came the paperwork. A lot of paperwork. Arthas was sitting at his desk and writing potential treaties. Looking over to the maps he'd brought with him, he calculated what would be appropriate terrain to be given to them. Then he compared it against what Zul'jin and Blackthorn wanted. He had to try to satisfy everyone while also considering who was most powerful.

But, of course, Zul'jin wanted special treatment. And Blackthorn wanted the complete return of Alterac's previous borders. Neither of which were feasible in the situation.

Then he felt arms set themselves on his shoulders. He felt Alexstrasza looked over him at the papers. Her red hair fell over his chest as her breath went over his face. The proximity was pleasant thanks to her innate aura. "So it is done then. You've defeated the first of the three brothers, King Arthas."

"Yes, and if my calculations are correct, Detheroc will usurp control of Garithos. He'll then bring him in to secure his holdings," said Arthas, writing a few more lines. "With Varimathras we can locate where those are with far greater ease."

"It seems you are well on your way to victory, then," said Alexstrasza.

"I am," said Arthas, giving up and putting down the quill and turned to face her. "However, I must speak with you. I recently saw a vision of the Lich King, welcoming a new champion. We can't afford to slow our momentum. Quite the opposite, I will be relying on you for the next stage."

Alexstrasza drew herself up, and Arthas enjoyed the way her chest moved from the motion. "I will contact Malygos and see what I can learn on the subject. For now, you should take a few hours rest. You've earned it, and you don't want to run yourself ragged."

"Don't patronize me," said Arthas, resting one arm on the chair.

The next stage was going to be the critical one. If it worked, the war would be as good as won. If it failed, well, he'd have some problems.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And the next chapter is up. Sorry, this took so long, I had some trouble finding inspiration. I ultimately decided that I had to change the order of the missions. This is owed to Arthas speeding up his schedule. I considered having the chapter focus on Alexstrasza. But I felt she worked better on a secondary character.

Enjoy.


	3. Dreadlord's Fall

**Chapter Three: Dreadlord's Fall**

It was a black night when Balnazzar and Detheroc met together in some ancient ruins. There was somber silence between them, at least until the guest appeared. Kel'thuzad emerged from the darkness, chains flowing behind him as he made his way into the center.

"Lord Kel'thuzad, we are pleased that you came," said Balnazzar.

"For my part, I take no special joy in the matter," said Kel'thuzad. "Might I inquire as to why you sought my assistance in this… rout?"

Balnazzar scowled at the mention of the recent defeat. "The other factions of Lordaeron are far too firm in their hatred of the Legion. They would never turn against Arthas until after the victory is won. You on the other hand…"

"Remain loyal to the Lich King," said Kel'thuzad. "Ner'zhul is displeased with how his former champion has used his dominions. He now desires them returned to the fold."

"Then it would seem we are here on a common purpose," said Balnazzar.

"Where is Varimathras?" asked Detheroc suddenly. "He should have been here by now?"

"Varimathras is dead, or so I suspect," said Kel'thuzad.

"What, impossible," said Detheroc.

"His armies were surrounded and cut down by Arthas with the assistance of Alexstrasza the Lifebinder," said Kel'thuzad. "I assume that Arthas found a quick and particularly painful end to your brother. He has no love for your kind. Quite the opposite."

Balnazzar shifted. They had underestimated the Death Knight, and now one of their number was dead. But Detheroc was not to be deterred. "…It is of no matter. We are the Nathrezim! We'll not let some human get the best of us!"

"It would seem to me that he already has," noted Kel'thuzad, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Even as we speak Arthas has gained new strength from the rebels in Varimathras' territory. Within a week he will stand poised to batter down the last defense. I assure you, the humans will much prefer him to you."

"What they prefer will no longer be relevant soon," said Balnazzar. "We need time to gather additional support, and that is all. Detheroc, I will go to Stratholme and prepare the city for a siege. You must ready your own forces and ensure that the enemy advance is halted." He paused. "Kel'thuzad?"

"We are not alone among the servants of the Lich King," said Kel'thuzad. "Unfortunately, Arthas has a reputation for invulnerability. His leadership inspires many of the lower-ranked cultists. No rebellion will be possible in these circumstances."

"Then what use can you be to us?" asked Detheroc.

"I will arrange for the buildup of troops to be slowed somewhat," said Kel'thuzad. "A few unfortunate setbacks in production should give you some breathing room. However, I must stress that Arthas may attack regardless."

"Let him." scoffed Detheroc. "Even as we speak, Lord Garithos is coming with his armies. My spell over him is nearly complete, and once he has entered my fortress, none will be able to pierce it."

"Then it would seem the situation is well in hand," said Balnazzar, wishing he believed it. "So long as we may delay Arthas, this hasty alliance he has built will soon falter. He cannot possibly keep the loyalty of all these factions indefinitely. Once it does, we may infiltrate, divide, and conquer as we always do.

"Varimathras will not have died in vain." He hoped he was right.

* * *

Arthas left behind him the creatures of the Tirisfal Glades. While they could be of further use, he did not want them to think he needed them. He wanted them to desire to be of use, but know they were not indispensable. So he had set forth with Dar'khan, Varimathras, Alexstrasza, and sent messages to his allies to meet him.

He knew they would not let him down. And they did not. Now Arthas' party looked down on the stronghold of Detheroc. The paladins and Kirin Tor were with them a little ways away. It was a heavily fortified city. One that had been completely burned out during the wars in Lordaeron before the coming of the Horde. A large segment of the city had been laid aside for empty buildings.

Detheroc was expecting guests.

"Is that the place?" asked Arthas.

"Yes, Detheroc's stronghold," said Varimathras. "He has spent long hours ensuring it is nearly impregnable, and soon it will be even more so. With the meager forces you've gathered here, an assault would be a lost cause."

"I have no hope for a direct assaults success," said Arthas honestly. The Alliance had sent only a token force, and his undead were half dreadlord loyalist. Any kind of assault would be a recipe for disaster.

"Then let's go before-"began Varimathras, turning to leave.

"Hold where you are, Dreadlord," said Arthas. "I have not yet given you leave. We wait."

Varimathras eyed him carefully. "For what?"

Arthas met his gaze and smiled, causing Varimathras to flinch. "You know as well as I."

Then, along the road beneath them, came a large contingent of Alliance forces. It was an entire legion of troops, bearing the emblem of Stormwind. At their head was Garithos on a horse. Their eyes were empty, and they seemed to shamble indecisively along the road.

"Lord Garithos… why are we coming out all… this way…?" asked a man.

"Silence fool!" said Garithos. "The voice… it calls us. And we must… must obey."

"Why have we… we not come into contact with the… undead?" asked another. "And why did all of us… have to leave Dalaran."

Arthas looked to Antonidas who was staring and smiled as a plan come fully together. "As promised, Lord Antonidas, Dalaran lies abandoned for you to take when you will. No doubt those that remain will be glad to accept you. You may do so with my blessing."

"I wonder if you deserve any credit for this at all," noted Antonidas.

Arthas shrugged. "I calculated that if I pressed Detheroc hard enough, he would panic. Then he would draw back Garithos to secure his own border." He looked to where Alexstrasza was peering down at Garithos. The soldiers were even now entering through the gates. Her red hair was flowing around her, and she looked very beautiful indeed. Moving to stand beside her, he found himself shifting nervously. "Queen Alexstrasza, what are your projections?"

Alexstrasza looked up. "It is a powerful spell, one long in the weaving. It was made by convincing those under it to indulge in hatred, greed, their worst impulses. The more they indulged in them, the more enslaved they became to Detheroc's will."

"Can you break it?" asked Arthas. If she said no, he'd have to rewrite his plans very quickly.

Alexstrasza nodded. "I have an innate connection to all living creatures, Arthas. With the assistance of both the paladins and the Kirin Tor, I believe so. We must inspire in them their best impulses, driving them to shake off Detheroc's control."

"Good. Once you do that, inspire them to open the gates once they attack the undead. Proceed at once, and send word to Dar'khan. Tell him that he will assault when the gates are opened."

Alexstrasza nodded and pushed her hair behind her head. She and Antonidas went to where the paladins were preparing the ritual she had created. Arthas watched silent as they began to chant. Soon three bright lights appeared one gold, one red, and one blue. They swirled together and rose into the sky as chanting began.

Arthas turned away and looked to the city. Varimathras was now behind him. "What are your plans now, Death Knight?"

Arthas decided not to answer the question directly. "Tell me, Varimathras, have you ever heard the tale of Menethil's horse?"

"No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me," said Varimathras in irritation.

"It's a story Detheroc could have learned from any cultist," said Arthas. "If he had, perhaps his fate might be less grim. Queen Calia Menethil I was the archenemy of King Strom Lothar. Their rivalry culminated in a ten-year siege of the capital city.

"It was an age of myth with many heroes on both sides. But in the end, a disease struck the attackers. Bitter and weary, they disappeared one night, and the city cheered. And all they left behind them was a great wooden horse, raised in tribute to the gods. We didn't worship the light in those days. But horses were always a symbol of Lordaeron, they held special significance. It was said that the life of the first horse a knight has foreshadows their own life."

"Charming," said Varimathras with obvious sarcasm. "But I hardly see what that has to do with the present situation."

"Well that day there was a great celebration, and Calia Menethil had the horse-drawn into the city," said Arthas. "There were vast celebrations around it the entire day in a great festival. Then, that night, when all the guards were asleep and drunk, the horse's belly opened."

At that moment there were horn calls from within the stronghold. The sound of fighting echoed throughout the streets. Screams and roars of battle echoed, the undead taken completely by surprise. The gates were flung open, and Dar'khan led his charge.

"Out came the greatest soldiers of King Strom. They crept through the city and slaughtered the gate guards. In came the armies of King Lothar. They killed everyone they found and only Queen Calia's son escaped by lowering a rope and sliding down the wall. The entire city was razed, and earth built up over it." Varimathras frowned. He looked like someone who had been listening to a horror story, only to get an unexpected happy ending. Then he turned to the city where the banner of the Legion was being torn down. "Until many years later, when a new city was built on top of it. And by digging deep enough, you can sometimes enter the passages of the old capital. That is why it is called the Undercity to this day.

"Ironic, isn't it?

"The very symbol of their triumph became the source of their ultimate destruction." Green mist arose behind them, and Arthas turned to the being he sensed. "Wouldn't you agree, Detheroc."

Detheroc was in chains and flanked by a number of elite undead. He was bleeding all over and looked to have been beaten. He stared at Varimathras with an open mouth for a moment then screamed. "Traitor! How could you betray us like this? We could have ruled this land together!"

"Arthas has greater strength than you know, brother. I'll take my chances with him," said Varimathras.

"Traitor?" asked Arthas. "Such an interesting word isn't it. And yet it can mean so many different things. I have a great deal of experience with traitors, Detheroc. In general, there are three kinds. Some betray their cause out of compulsion. Fear of death, mind control, hostages. These things compelled them to turn on what they held precious. They are to be pitied.

"Then there are those who betray out of ideology. They were unwilling to bend the knee to a Lord whose plans they considered wrong. So they cast aside all they had for ideals. These are to be admired.

"And last of all, there are those who betray for profit. Who sell out those who they owe loyalty to for the chance of greater benefit. They are to be held in contempt.

"We are all of us one of them. Every person in this room is a traitor to something. I wonder, Detheroc, which one are you?"

"None." snarled Detheroc. "I serve the Legion and them only."

"Good answer," said Arthas, respecting his defiance. "Wrong, though. Take him away."

Detheroc was brought out, struggling. For his part, Arthas and the main members of his company made their way through the open gates. Soon they came within sight of where Garithos' men were formed up in a great defensive square.

They trailed their guns at Arthas and his men as they approached. "Hold where you are, Garithos. You would do well to heed my offer."

"Arthas, what is the meaning of this?" asked Garithos.

"Your ambitions have failed, Garithos," said Arthas. "Dalaran has been retaken by the Kirin Tor. The Paladins have declared themselves neutral. And the Kingdom of Strahnbrad is your enemy. What fate would have awaited your glorious army were it not for my intervention."

"Get to the point, Death Knight!" snarled Garithos.

"I wish to off you an escape from the trap you've placed yourself in," said Arthas. "You can keep attempting to set yourself up as king and starve in the plaguelands. Or you can serve me and be awarded a rightful place in the new order.

"This decision is not one to take lightly."

Garithos shook with rage. "Serve you? You betrayed the Alliance! You betrayed humanity!"

"As did you," said Arthas. "I wonder, between the two of us who will they have an easier time hunting down? Join me, and I can offer you a position of power. Your only other alternative is to throw yourself a the mercy of the Alliance.

"We all know how they award their friends. I'd hate to think what they'd do to their enemies."

At this moment, Alexstrasza came forward. She swayed her hips as a soothing light emanated from her, overtaken the minds of all present. "Think of it, Garithos. If you assist us, you will be able redeem yourself. We may destroy the Dreadlords once and for all and free Lordaeron from their grip forever. And if you do not desire to remain in Arthas' service, then you may break with him after victory is achieved."

"Well, Garithos?" said Arthas, coming to stand beside her. "Make your choice."

Garithos looked to his men, then to Antonidas who looked on in silent fury. Finally, he gazed at the paladins whose eyes were doubtful. "…We will serve until the Dreadlords are destroyed. After that, I promise nothing."

"A wise decision," said Arthas. Then he activated a signal with a spell and turned to Antonidas. "Lord Antonidas, I'd like to make a recommendation for the Kirin Tor."

"Recommendation?" asked Antonidas, eyes suspicious.

"Yes, you are down several members," said Arthas as Kel'thuzad appeared beside him. "I believe it would be beneficial for all involved to appoint Kel'thuzad to a position on the Six. I will need someone to represent my interests, after all. Should any disagreements crop up, Kel'thuzad should smooth them out.

"Wouldn't you agree, gentlemen?" He gave them both a friendly smile.

Antonidas shifted, looking for a way out. But Arthas had him. Just like he had Garithos. If Antonidas defied him, Arthas now had a powerful human faction to contest his reign with. Whereas if Garithos defied him, the Alliance would be waiting with knives out. And if either one of them wanted to gain an advantage over the other, well, they'd best appease him.

"…I could see my way to arranging that appointment," said Antonidas.

"I have no more of a vendetta with the Lich than I do any of your other servants." snapped Garithos.

"Excellent," said Arthas. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Queen Alexstrasza and I have plans to make."

They moved away from the occupation. Their troops took hold of the equipment within the fortress while they climbed the walls. It had been days since Arthas had declared himself, less than a week. And yet he had very nearly reconquered Lordaeron. Now he just needed to keep ahead of his own allies.

Still, as the two of them stared out over the plaguelands, something bothered him. He looked to Alexstrasza, who shifted beneath his gaze. "Tell me, milady, why did you want me to take Detheroc prisoner? Varimathras I could understand, but Detheroc remains defiant."

"I've observed that these three Dreadlord's have a camaraderie of sorts," admitted Alexstrasza. "I am the Guardian of Life. If it is possible to redeem such a species, I must know it. And if redemption for them is possible, it must start somewhere.

"I regard it as gathering intelligence."

"Do you have any idea what these three have done?" asked Arthas.

Alexstrasza sighed bitterly. "More than you do, I think. But all races commit atrocities. While I would mark the Nathrezim species as a bit of a longshot, if they could be reformed, I would prefer it."

Arthas turned around and leaned against the crenelations, looking over his mustering host. "Regale me with these fantasies of yours, please."

"Well, you start small as with all things," said Alexstrasza, inching a bit closer. "Make it so they learn to value other members of their kind. Appeal to pragmatism. If their subordinates are happy working for them, they'll be less likely to betray them. If they fight in a manner that is considered moral, their enemies are less likely to unite against them.

"Once they are in the habit of behaving pragmatically that habit can become a moral code of sort. Eventually, they may follow it for the right reasons."

"And how is having them still alive beneficial to me?" asked Arthas.

Alexstrasza shrugged. "Well, they may be useful as hostages. Balnazzar is not in a strong position and if he thinks he can get out of this alive by surrendering, well, he just might. That would save us a great deal of hassle."

Arthas nodded. "That's all very well for you. I'm the one who will have to deal with the politic fallout for letting them live."

Alexstrasza gave him a winning smile. "Do you think killing them will actually improve your reputation?"

Arthas laughed despite himself. "…No, probably not."

"Well then, it would seem we don't have a problem as long as we can keep them under control," said Alexstrasza

Arthas rolled his eyes and waved his hand before her face. "Have fun with that, Alexstrasza. This time your flight can be the jailors, and I'll wash my hands of the whole nonsense."

Alexstrasza burst out laughing hysterically before looking at him warmly. "You're beginning to sound more like one of the Aspects by the day."

Arthas brought up a hand to cup her by the cheek. "Watch it, milady. I might take that as an invitation."

"Forward, aren't we?" asked Alexstrasza, pressing herself against him and returning the motion.

"Well, I've always been an aggressive general," said Arthas.

Then he kissed her. And she more than returned the embrace.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

AlexstraszaXArthas is a pairing I've never seen anyone seriously pursue. Which is a shame. One is a god of life, the other is a god of death. The whole opposites theme could make for some very interesting stories. It probably doesn't help that they are never in the same scene together.

I decided to experiment with it here since they're teaming up and everything.

Also, I decided to take the focus away from the battle itself. There are only so many times you can describe a melee, and I felt the effect was better this way. Enjoy.


	4. Submission

**Chapter Four: Submission**

Krasus made his way up the hill, keeping his hood down and his cloak close in the howling winds. Ahead of him, he could sense one of the holdings of the Blue Dragon Flight. That was what he was making for. He dearly wished to be back in Dalaran or in the Red Dragonflight's domain. He'd never much liked Northrend at the best of times.

He liked it less, now that the Lich King had come into his own. Gradually he reached the top and came to the door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door slid aside before he could finish the motion. On the other side was Kalecgos, in his elven form. "It has been many years, Kalecgos," said Krasus.

Kalecgos bowed. "That it has, Lord Korialstrasza. You honor us by your presence. I have been dispatched to meet you and escort you to Lord Malygos at your earliest convenience."

"Very well then, lead on," said Krasus.

Kalecgos led Krasus into the tunnels. To Krasus' surprise, there were many human soldiers moving this way and that. And Ice Troll warriors, and Tuskarr. Other races from Northrend were present as well. They seemed to be speaking with one another, well used to each other's presence. It was like nothing he'd seen in the land before.

"I am glad to see the Blue Dragonflight so well guarded," said Krasus. "But who are these mortals in your company?"

"They are Malygos' new allies," said Kalecgos. "Lord Malygos made contact with Prince Arthas' expedition after he left. They found they had already made alliances with the Ice Trolls and Ogre Legion. We've been busy establishing an alliance between the creatures of Northrend."

"A worthy cause," said Krasus. "Malygos has been busy. How is the war faring?"

"Very well," said Kalecgos. "Ever since the Lich King was destroyed by Archimonde, the scourge fell into chaos. They've all been ruled by various warlords. The dominant one was a Crypt Lord named Anub'arak, but that's all the moot point now."

"What do you mean?" asked Krasus, curious.

"Some days ago an expedition of High Elves and Naga came through here," said Kalecgo. "They requested passage through our territory to assault the Lich King. Captain Falric argued against it-"

"Falric?" asked Krasus. The name was vaguely familiar.

"The leader of the Alliance Expedition," said Kalecgos. "He wanted to do a gradual advance, whittle away the undead little by little. But Kael'thas was in a hurry to launch the assault, and he pressed on. But the undead gave way before him and his entourage. They disappeared into the heart of Northrend.

"We've heard nothing from them since."

"I'm surprised Prince Kael'thas was unable to recruit the Alliance," noted Krasus.

"There was a clash over leadership," said Kalecgos. "Humans tend to disagree on things for stupid reasons."

"I think you'll find those reasons mean a great deal to them," said Krasus.

"Whether they do or not, we've sensed a power rising in the heart of Northrend," said Kalecgos. "Lord Malygos is meeting with Falric to discuss the matter as we speak."

They reached a door and as it opened. Krasus entered to see Malygos in human form, facing down a mustached, stocky man. He was clad in worn, golden armor, and he regarded the Aspect as an equal. "We will do no such thing.'

"You know as well as I do how important this task is," said Malygos.

Falric, Krasus presumed he was Falric, shook his head. "The task is beyond our abilities. We've only just secured the border, and our forces will be stretched thin if we go any further. We don't even know if this new power is a threat of any kind. For all we know, Prince Kael'thas may have succeeded in his mission."

"That alone may be cause for concern," noted Malygos.

"Forgive me, Lord Malygos, but Lord Korialstrasza is here," said Kalecgos.

Idiot, years spent maintaining his cover and Kalecgos had blown it in a moment. Krauss sighed and walked forward as Falric regarded him. "Archmage Krasus."

"Captain Falric I presume." said Krasus.

"You do indeed, sir," said Falric.

Malygos moved past to draw near, eyes furrowed. "Korialstrasz, you are here at last. I had wondered when Alexstrasza would come into contact with me. What news?"

"Well, much of the news is good," said Krasus, drawing off his cloak. "The plans set in motion with the opening of the Dark Portal have all come to their culmination. Archimonde is dead and the truce established. However, things have taken unexpected paths.

"I would know how much you've seen."

"Not much from Lordaeron," said Malygos. "The unholy energies possessing the land have made it difficult to scry anything. I know that Arthas, Illidan, and Lady Proudmoore went with a force of Naga into Lordaeron."

Krasus nodded. "…Very well, then. The situation in Lordaeron has become very complicated since the fall of Archimonde. You see, neither the living nor the dead have any one leader. Many different factions are working against and with one another.

"When I last left, Prince Arthas Menethil had proclaimed himself King of Lordaeron. That was several days ago. I imagine he is gathering his forces as we speak to press his claim against the Dreadlord's."

"Actually, the war for Lordaeron is already over." said another, female voice.

Krasus glanced up to see a beautiful blue-haired elf to normal sight. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she was clad in a leather tunic that bared her long legs beneath a frilly skirt. She moved forward, deep bags under her eyes.

"Tyrygosa, you return," said Malygos.

"Yes, and I'm sorry I wasn't able to get in contact before now," said Tyrygosa. "It has been anything but fun. I've got my report here, Lord Malygos. Arthas has conquered all of western Lordaeron. He is working with Alexstrasza to subvert the last vestiges. He's stayed two steps ahead of every major faction. At this rate, I think he'll rule Lordaeron and southern Quel'thalas by the end of the month."

Krasus wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "It has been less than a week. How could-"

At that moment Tyrygosa began sneezing repeatedly. Kalecgos moved forward. "Are you alright, Tiri?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I just…" She sneezed again. "Caught a bad flu while I was down in Lordaeron. My head feels like it's hollowed out, and I can't drink water without feeling like vomiting."

"My sympathies," said Malygos, before casting a spell. "Is that better?"

"Somewhat," said Tyrygosa, wiping her eyes. "thank you, Lord Malygos."

"Now, Korialstrasz, perhaps you could explain what mission has brought you out this far," said Malygos.

"We believe that a new champion of the Lich King has come forward," said Krasus. "Certain visions have warned us, and we were hoping you could tell us more."

"Given how the undead opened ranks for Prince Kael'thas he may the one of which this vision spoke," noted Malygos.

"I don't believe it." snapped Falric. "Prince Kael'thas has long been a servant of the Alliance. Although he and my master had no quarrel with one another, I doubt he would be so easily subverted. Especially given his greater experience with the horrors of war."

"Then how do you read this?" asked Krasus.

"Perhaps the Lich King surrendered," said Falric.

"You're joking?" said Kalecgos.

"Why not?" asked Falric. "From what Malygos has told me, his intention was to escape the grip of the Burning Legion. He has done so, but he is weak now with Arthas having broken his yolk. Kael'thas despises Arthas, and the feeling is entirely mutual.

"I doubt Kael'thas will want to tolerate Arthas gaining the kind of power he is. He and Ner'zhul thus have a common enemy. If the Lich King were to yield to Kael'thas, they might be able to challenge Arthas for control of the undead. From there, Kael'thas could gather support from other parts of the Alliance."

"That makes a great deal of sense," said Malygos. "You are perceptive, Falric."

"I know my master, and I know the mind of his enemies," said Falric. "He and Kael'thas have been rivals for many years."

"If what you say is true, how does that account for the change in the undead's movements?" asked Krasus.

Falric paused. "There was a brief period after Archimonde arrived where the undead fell into chaos. If that had continued, we'd have won by now, but it didn't last. They began to divide into factions. One was led by the Crypt Lord, Anub'arak, and also a secondary faction that acted contrary to Anub'arak's interests."

"There is no proof of that." scoffed Kalecgos. "They are all led by separate leaders.'

"All of whom do not fight each other and act with a remarkable amount of coordination despite." snapped Falric. "There are no coincidences, fool." Krasus wondered at the source of this man's hostility.

Kalecgos glared back, and there seemed a line of fire between them. "I won't take that from you, human."

"You have little choice," replied Falric flatly. "I've fought horrors far more terrible than anything you could conceive of-"

"Enough," said Malygos, raising a hand. "There is merit in what Falric suggests. I have detected a certain rhythm to the actions of those factions that oppose Anub'arak. It seems likely that the spirit of Ner'zhul persisted. It has been manipulating behind the scenes. With, or without, their knowledge."

"And what could Kael'thas offer him?" asked Krasus.

"Kael'thas was in the company of many immensely powerful figures," said Malygos. "And he himself is a sorcerer of supreme power. I am certain they would be able to reembody the Lich King. If they managed that, they could, perhaps, regain control of Anub'arak."

"So what will we do?" asked Kalecgos.

"Nothing," said Falric, flatly, looking back at the map.

"Nothing?" asked Tyrygosa. "Surely, some action is warranted."

Falric shrugged. "Whatever happens will be a war between undead and wielders of unholy magic. Kael'thas' warriors reek of the stuff. The way I see the matter, taking a side is liable to get my men killed for little to no gain. Whereas if we simply wait, our enemies will weaken one another. Should it be necessary, we may finish off the winner."

Krasus found this surprising. "You do realize that King Arthas will almost certainly be one of the combatants."

Falric glared at him, and Krasus felt like he'd been stabbed. "King Arthas is beyond my help. He's gone where I cannot follow. My interest is in maintaining what he stood for before he took up Frostmourne. I will decide what to do if and when the battle lines are drawn.

"For now, however, I believe we should remain neutral."

"All you ever do is suggest we defend and take targets of opportunity," said Kalecgos. "If we strike now we might be able to put a stop to this before it even begins."

"Or decimate our standing forces in a futile offensive," noted Falric. "Our alliance with the Nerubians will soon be solidified. Once it is, we will be able to travel throughout Northrend quickly and strike anywhere. When we have secured Azjol Nerub, our ability to launch offensives will be unrivaled.

"The longer the war drags out, the stronger our position becomes. Time is on our side."

"What if Kael'thas does succeed?" asked Kalecgos. "What if he becomes too powerful for any army to contain?"

"There is no god that cannot be killed by the proper application of tactics," said Falric. "The trick is not to be around when he explodes."

"Falric is right, Kalecgos," said Malygos. "We do not know enough to act on. We will investigate this matter personally and see what may be learned. When I know more about the situation, we may change our policy.

"For now, we will continue as we have."

"Yes, Lord Malygos," said Kalecgos. A glare was passed between him and Falric. It was obvious the two of them hated one another with a passion. Krasus wondered what had happened to cause such a vendetta.

"Korialstrasz, I would have you return with tidings of what has happened," said Malygos. "Ysera also may be able to provide some guidance on the matter. Even the wicked have dreams, after all.

"Tyrygosa, I would have you go with him."

"But I just got back," said Tyrygosa. "I had to travel across two continents to get here!"

"I want you to act as my representative in Lordaeron," said Malygos. "You'll take with us all the information we have on the present situation for Alexstrasza's use. Captain Falric, if you wish, you can send any message you may desire?"

Falric remained silent for a long moment. "…I will see if I can find anything to say."

"Lord Malygos, a word if you please," said Krasus.

"Of course," said Malygos.

They went to one side. Krasus spoke: "I can't help but notice that your two chief subordinates hold one another in contempt. Might I inquire as to why?"

"After Arthas left, Falric formed what was a cult of personality around the Prince," said Malygos. "He and his men had an almost fanatical devotion to performing his will in his absence. It also infected the Ice Trolls and Ogres. When Kalecgos got back, the first thing he did was reveal that Arthas had sacked Dalaran. It was a severe blow to morale.

"So they got off badly from the very beginning. But things only got bad after Kalecgos started leading battles. Falric prefers a conservative and defensive style of warfare. He gradually built strength and taking targets of opportunity. Kalecgos organized a series of offensives which did a great deal of damage. Unfortunately, he overextended his forces, and a retreat had to be called.

"Dragons can retreat far more quickly than mortals. Falric had to fight a gruesome battle to get his men back to safety. When he did, he publically called Kalecgos a coward."

"He what?!" said Krasus. Was the man insane?

"Yes," said Malygos. "Kalecgos responded in the usual fashion. But Falric ordered his riflemen to shoot him dead. We would have had a civil war if I hadn't stepped in directly. The problem is that humans don't think as they used to.

"In the old days, when mortals worked under us, it was understood that they were not as valuable dragons. Dragons take far longer to grow up and are much more valuable as individuals. It was taken for granted that in a retreat, the mortals would hold the line."

"I'm afraid that the Alliance is not as their ancestors were," said Krasus. "They no longer worship dragons directly. In the mind of an Alliance commander, the army stands or falls together. For Kalecgos to push for an offensive and not be first in the retreat would be an act of cowardice in the mind of a soldier.

"Still, ordering a dragon shot…"

"I had to give Falric a far greater level of authority to satiate him," said Malygos. "Though in exchange I had him apologize to Kalecgos. But he didn't mean a word of it and Kalecgos knows it. The two have held one another in contempt ever since."

"Well," said Krasus, "let us hope nothing more than harsh words comes of it."

"On that, we may agree," said Malygos.

Krasus would be glad to get back home again.

* * *

Arthas Menethil took a meeting with Varimathras within a chapel of the light. He was kneeling before an altar, praying when the doors opened. Turning around, Arthas turned to where the Dreadlord was walking in, obviously nervous. "You called King Arthas."

"Your information was of some use, Varimathras," said Arthas. "If you wish to prove yourself worthy of further responsibilities, I have another task for you."

Varimathras bowed. "I am at your disposal, King Arthas."

"Good," said Arthas. "I want you to go to your brother, Balnazzar, and secure his surrender. Detheroc will remain here as my hostage, and my armies will be marching the entire. Bear in mind, there will be a time limit. Alexstrasza has gone to negotiate with the Scarlet Crusade. She is to secure the support of Alexandros Mograine.

"Once I have it, I will be obligated to burn Stratholme to the ground and kill everything in it. Nothing less will suffice for such an alliance."

"How do you expect me to convince my brother of such a policy?" asked Varimathras, sounding curious.

"Appeal to his sense of self-interest, of course," said Arthas. "I expect perfect results, Varimathras. One way, or the other."

Varimathras nodded. "So be it."

He could not teleport away on holy ground. So instead, Varimathras walked on out. Arthas watched him go, before looking to one side to a pillar. There, leaning next to it, was Alexstrasza, smelling a white flower by her nose. Her ample breasts were rising and falling with each breath. Then she lowered the flower and looked up. "Come now, you have no intention of bringing the Scarlet Crusade into things."

"Of course not," said Arthas. "The forces I am gathering should be more than sufficient to the task, and I doubt they would ever work with me. Not from what Magroth has told me, at any rate. What do you have to report?"

"They are mobilizing, as you expected," said Alexstrasza, walking over to him, so they were inches away. "My warning to Alexandros before stayed their wrath for a time. But with the recent defeats, they believe the time is now. They'll march soon."

"Then we'll have to talk them out of doing anything stupid," said Arthas. "Or rather, you'll have to talk them out of it."

"Of course," said Alexstrasza with a smile. She seemed about to lean forward as if to kiss him again, but then she drew back. "Arthas?"

"Yes," asked Arthas.

"I'd like to speak to you about what happened earlier," said Alexstrasza.

"What of it, milady?" asked Arthas.

"I… am not opposed to such a relationship with you," said Alexstrasza. "However, you must understand that as the Queen of the Red Dragons, I have many duties. Among those is creating new generations of dragons to replace the old.

"Because of this, I must have multiple male consorts. I thought you ought to know."

Arthas nodded, remembering something about this from his education. "I understand, and I accept it. So long as you do not object when I marry Jaina Proudmoore."

Alexstrasza shifted but smiled as she leaned forward and kissed him. She wrapped her arms around him, before pulling slightly back. "Don't you think you're making some assumptions?"

Arthas cupped her cheek. "From a politic perspective, it's a perfect move for her. Once I'm the supreme ruler of Lordaeron, if we marry, that will ensure Theramore's security. I have good relations with the Horde, and they owe me a debt they've yet to repay. A connection to me would help immensely with any negotiations she made.

"Meanwhile, it would give me access to a major beachhead on Kalimdor."

"To what end?" asked Alexstrasza, grinding against him.

"Trade, and, perhaps, conquest," said Arthas.

Her smile widened. "Are you planning to conquer the world, Arthas?"

"No.," said Arthas, feeling somewhat guilty. "Well, yes, but defensively. I fully expect the Horde will eventually attack Theramore. When that happens, I have plans in place to bring them into the fold. Likewise, once Alterac is re-established they'll want to get even with Stromguard. And the Alliance is not going to take what I've done here lying down." The moment was lost, and he broke off the embrace. "War with the rest of the world is inevitable. I can either win it or be destroyed. My plan, as far as it goes, is to keep the wars spaced out. That will give me time to consolidate my gains before defensive annexation."

"You're cute when you're cynical, you know that," said Alexstrasza, wrapping her arms around him. "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you before."

"You obviously don't get out much," noted Arthas.

"No, I mean it." She pulled him close. "You're completely cynical, expect nothing but the worst from everyone. You use cynical trickery and cloak and dagger politics to achieve your ends. But you use them to minimize blood loss, all in pursuit of an imagined utopia.

"You're even planning world domination because you can't conceive of a world where things work out the best."

"Can you?" asked Arthas.

"Of course," said Alexstrasza. "Unfortunately, given the stakes of my work, I must choose more… reliable methods."

Arthas turned to face her directly and pushed up her face, so they were eye to eye. "You are the most beautiful hypocrite I've ever met." Then he turned and walked toward the door. "Still, I recommend you go to Alexandros Mograine. Try to convince him to keep his troops at the border and no farther."

"Oh, you already want me gone?" called Alexstrasza playfully.

Arthas glanced back. "I want to make sure we both don't end up with our heads on stakes. We're hardly out of the woods just yet."

Alexstrasza nodded and went serious. "Fair enough."

They parted and went about their own plans.

Balnazzar was alone in his office now.

When he looked out the window. Beyond he saw minions scurrying to and fro to prepare their defenses. The Scarlet Crusade was mustering as they spoke. Arthas' armies were on the move, newly bolstered by the forces of the Alliance. All of Lordaeron was rising against him.

Balnazzar could win a hundred battles and not gain victory. Yet he could lose but one. At this moment, Kel'thuzad appeared. Balnazzar looked back to the Lich, who he had thought dead. "Kel'thuzad, your efforts seem to have failed spectacularly."

Kel'thuzad shrugged. "Far from it. My efforts never had a chance to go into effect. Even as I met with you, Arthas was leading his forces in an assault on Detheroc."

"The results?" asked Balnazzar. "I've received no reliable data."

"Detheroc is captured," said Kel'thuzad. "Most of his forces have been absorbed into Arthas'. What of yours?"

Balnazzar looked out the window and sensed fear. Disobedience, despair. Many believed the war was lost. "I've faced a large number of defections. More and more of my willpower must be poured into ensuring that my minions do not abandon me."

"My sympathies," said Kel'thuzad, the very antithesis of sincerity.

"Your services would do me more good." noted Balnazzar. "If you could arrange even a small defection-"

"It would make no difference at all," said Kel'thuzad. "Arthas' myth of invulnerability has never been stronger. Two of your brothers have fallen. Detheroc captured, and Varimathras defected."

"What?!" said Balnazzar, not having heard that.

"My apologies, I only learned about it when I was summoned to be given a position on the Six by King Arthas," said Kel'thuzad. "He means to use me as the instrument to control the Kirin Tor."

Balnazzar was thoughtful. "Then perhaps we may make use of that. The humans-"

"Hate you," said Kel'thuzad. "Far more than they do Arthas. As long as you are considered any kind of threat, his hold on Lordaeron will be of iron. The Legion is considered the greatest threat to every faction. With good reason. They know that if you are left alive, you will eventually come back.

"Arthas, on the other hand, is a mortal adversary. Powerful, but he can be reasoned with, and, in a pinch, killed. If you attempt to approach any of the human factions, they will kill you out of hand. You might attempt to possess or subvert the will of a major faction leader. But I think we both know Arthas will be watching for that.

"He'll find you, expose your webs, and use it to discredit his adversaries."

"Did you come here to preach hopelessness?" asked Balnazzar, furious at the hopelessness of the situation.

"No, we came to preach submission," said Varimathras, emerging from the shadows.

"Varimathras, I should kill you!" snapped Balnazzar, stepping forward. "Poor Detheroc must have been heartbroken at what you did!"

"I had no choice in the matter," said Varimathras quickly. "My armies were surrounded, and I judged that my only avenue for continued use to the Legion was as a double agent."

"So you led Arthas to Detheroc's stronghold," said Balnazzar.

"He was on the verge of finding that anyway," said Kel'thuzad matter of factly. "Varimathras, at least, managed to ingratiate himself. All you lost was information that would have only bought you a day or two. His plan still would have worked."

"Enough," said Balnazzar. "What are you suggesting, Varimathras?"

"Undermining Arthas' hegemony at this stage is futile," said Varimathras. "He is too powerful and has too much momentum. His empire will only become vulnerable once ours is destroyed."

"And so you suggest we submit to him and hope for the best?" guessed Balnazzar.

"Queen Alexstrasza is preaching mercy for some reason of her own," said Varimathras. "He seems to be considering it. I believe, however, that I have devised the purpose behind it. At the moment, Arthas has formed a powerful alliance with the denizens of Lordaeron. They are united by hatred.

"King Arthas has made plans to set them against one another. However, the inevitable fact is that the humans will be in a position to contest his rule. He stands to fight a series of smaller wars once he has finished us. And it is no sure thing Alexstrasza, and the other living creatures won't abandon us."

"But we could be a counterweight," noted Balnazzar.

"Precisely," said Varimathras. "We will go to him and submit fully to him, offering to defect from the Legion and pledge ourselves to his service. We still have some power left and so will retain some semblance of authority. We submit to any… obligations he sees fit to thrust on us.

"From there, we bide our time and wait. Arthas will need to draw on our forces sooner or later, and we may gradually put ourselves in a position of power. It may be that we can turn him back over to the side of the Legion, there is a precedent. If so, when the Legion has recovered from the Third War, we may start another invasion with ease.

"Failing that, we will be in a position to make a critical betrayal. And in the meantime, we will be afforded protection from those who want us dead."

Balnazzar nodded. Adaptation was the greatest virtue a Dreadlord could possess. They lacked the strength to win by force, so they must adapt and preserve what forces remained to them. "…Very well then, Varimathras. Go to King Arthas and tell him I wish to submit to his authority and recognize him as the rightful ruler of Lordaeron. In return, I ask only that I will be allowed to keep my remaining power, and that Detheroc be released."

"I will bring your answer at once," said Varimathras.

Kel'thuzad vanished, and Varimathras turned away. But as he did, Balnazzar spoke. "Varimathras…"

Varimathras glanced back. "Yes?"

"If you ever truly betray the Legion I'll flay you alive," said Balnazzar.

Varimathras shuddered, knowing that Balnazzar meant it. "I understand, Brother."

And he was gone.

* * *

Stratholme was on the horizon. Arthas rode at the head of his armies. Behind him was a vast host of undead, humans, trolls, ogres and all other kinds. Their numbers were vast, and yet no force could ambush them. Zul'jin picked out a potential ambush, and it was turned against the enemy. Alexstrasza walked beside him, and as they spoke of many things, plans for the future.

For the first time in who knew how long Arthas felt hope. Not mere certainty that he could control the circumstances of his universe.

Then, as they drew nearer, Varimathras appeared. "King Arthas, my brother, Balnazzar has agreed to surrender. He asks only that he be allowed to maintain authority over what dominions remain to him. That, and the release of Detheroc. So long as these conditions are met, he will gladly bend the knee."

There were murmurs of disapproval from the humans of the army. They hated the Dreadlord, and Arthas looked to Varimathras seriously. "He may well kneel before me, but it is not in my authority to grant a pardon for the crimes you have committed. Only Alexstrasza, Queen of Life, has that authority.

"You will have to plead mercy from her."

Varimathras looked at Alexstrasza with a primal hatred. "You would have us kneel before the Guardian of Life?!"

"Of course," said Arthas. "Or do you think it in my authority to forgive sins?"

Let Alexstrasza take the heat for her own idea. She looked at him with slight irritation, but then back to Varimathras.

Varimathras averted his gaze. "I'm always on the winning side," he muttered. Then he faded away.

"King Arthas," said Zul'jin, "the Scarlet Crusade be heading for Stratholme as well. They were lead by Alexandros Mograine. We may be having some fighting either way."

Arthas nodded. "Well, if we must do battle, we must. Ride, Invincible! We must reach Stratholme before Alexandros Mograine!"

The Dreadlord's had surrendered. Now Arthas had to accept their surrender in a fashion that didn't lead to another war. And then he'd have to keep control of them and everyone else.

He was so sick of Lordaeron.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So here we have the defeat of Balnazzar. Far less brutal than in canon, and we get some exposition on what's been going on back in Northrend. One of the problems with having so many different factions is that a lot of things have to happen offscreen. Alexandros Mograine was meant to appear long before now. But he just hasn't been important enough to bring in.

I would apologize to any fans of Kalecgos if he seemed out of character. But Kalecgos doesn't have a character and, to my knowledge, doesn't have any fans. So I think I'm in the clear.


	5. The Ashbringer

**Chapter Five: The Ashbringer**

Renault Mograine returned to Stratholme without the forces he had been sent to get. It was a bitter pill for him, especially given how much those soldiers would be needed. But King Wilhelm had made a decision, and despite his best efforts, he hadn't been able to talk him out of it.

As he entered the gates, Saiden Dethronan caught him a huge bear huge. Then he broke it. "Excellent timing, Renault. We were just about to send out search parties."

"I had to do some negotiation with King Wilhelm," said Renault. "He's concerned the undead might strike at us from the south and wants his garrison to remain behind."

"The south?" asked Saiden. "But Dalaran is Alliance territory. "

Renault sighed. "Not anymore. The Kirin Tor have had it restored to them by 'King' Arthas and have now inducted Kel'thuzad into their ranks. It is possible he could hit us from Dalaran if he summoned his allies to war." It seemed as if the traitor prince had his hands in everything these days. There had been a period where he had been practically running the war effort. Now it seemed there wasn't one at all. "The only consolation is that the Dreadlord's are finally as miserable as we are."

"Well, that is something," said Saiden grimly. "Still, I should not become too despondent. The light tests us, but it does not put more on our shoulders than we can bear. Retribution will fall upon those who defy it, one way or another." His tone brightened. "Your father just returned from the front."

Renault looked up. "What of it?"

Saiden eyed Renault in concern. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

"Not really, to be honest," said Renault.

Saiden had known Renault a long time, and no doubt guessed his reasons. "Alexandros was not himself, Renault. The wars haunted him, driving him to near madness. Don't you think you should put the matter behind you?"

"The wars haunt everyone, Saiden," said Renault.

Saiden paused. "I am not pretending that what he did was right, Renault. And I do not ask you to forgive him. However, it would be well if you would go to meet him. He is still your blood, and I think you should try and reconcile with him.

"In any case, it would be well if he received this news directly from you. When last I heard he was heading toward his old home, to meet with your brother."

Renault nodded. "As you command."

He made his way up the slope toward the old Mograine household. It had never been the same since Darion was born, not that Father acknowledged the fact. There had been a time when Renault had wanted to be like his father. He remembered there were days when Alexandros had been kind, but those were few and far between. Most days it was either stern instruction or drunken fury.

But then, Alexandros had been part of the worst battles in the Second War. Renault remembered days when his father would wake up screaming. He'd grope for weapons, seeing enemies who weren't there. Only Mother had been able to calm him in these fits. Father had gotten past them, but by the time he had, Renault had been too old to care. Then Darion had killed Mother on his way out of the womb, and all Alexandros' fatherly affection went to the brat.

Even so, Renault decided that he would try to move past it. For Saiden's sake, at least.

Soon enough, he saw Alexandros Mograine himself, walking across a field. And there was Darion, running toward him. They embraced, as Renault drew near, keeping to the shadows out of habit.

"Father, you have returned," said Darion. "You've been gone a long time, Father."

"Nothing could keep me away from here, Darion," said Alexandros. "Not from my home and family."

"Father, I wish to join you in the war against the undead!" said Darion. "I want to fight! I can sit idle no longer!" What a pretentious imbecile. It was as if Darion had drawn his speech from the worst written dialogue of the century.

But Alexandros smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Darion Mograine, you are barely of age to hold a sword, let alone battle the undead hordes of Lordaeron. I could not bear losing you. Even the thought…"

"If I die, Father," said Darion, "I would rather it be on my feet! Standing in defiance against the undead legions! If I die, let me die with you!" This was nauseating.

"My son, there will come a day when you will command the Ashbringer and with it, meet out justice across this land. I have no doubt that when that day finally comes, you will bring pride to our people. Lordaeron will be a better place because of you." Renault's blood turned to ice. His gaze fell to the weapon at Alexandros' side, and he put a hand to his own sword. "But, my son, that day is not today. Do not forget."

He, the firstborn, was to be all but disowned so this spoiled child could play at knighthood.

Renault almost killed him then and there. It would be easy, just step out of the shadows and run him through. Darion would be easy to kill; he could say bandits did it. No one would know. But he didn't, because while he might despise the old bastard, Renault was not far gone enough to fall to murder even if he deserved it.

Instead, he walked around the tree. "Touching."

Darion paled as he saw him, and Alexandros flinched. He'd been caught. "Renault I-"

"Wilhelm has refused to mobilize his troops," said Renault, not trusting himself to speak of anything but war. "He believes that 'King' Arthas may launch an assault against us from the south. I believe his concerns are justified, given that the Kirin Tor have all but bent the knee."

"What?" said Alexandros. "How did this happen?"

"I am unsure," said Renault. "However, Kel'thuzad is now a member of the Six once more. I expect we'll face a war on two fronts very soon. Why have you come back? I was given to understand that you were to assault Stratholme? Have you received yet another vision from Queen Alexstrasza?"

"The battle of Stratholme is already over," said Alexandros. "Balnazzar has surrendered to Queen Alexstrasza."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Renault.

"From what I gather, 'King' Arthas has been operating according to Alexstrasza's will," said Alexandros. "Whether he has done so since the fall of Archimonde, or taken up her banner recently, I do not know. But the Dreadlord's are to face judgment from her.

"We of the Scarlet Crusade have been asked to send representatives."

"Why can't we just kill them?" asked Darion. "They deserve it!"

"It is more complicated than that, I assume," said Alexandros. "Perhaps the Dreadlords have devised some means to return from the grave. Or Alexstrasza may have some plan to use them against the Legion. Whatever it is, we ought to hear what she had to say. She is the Guardian of Life."

"What did she have to say during the Third War?" asked Renault.

Alexandros' expression darkened. "Renault, you know as well as I that the Red Dragon Flight was decimated. Partially by us. Even if all of the dragons were gathered, it would not have been enough to kill Archimonde. I saw him once, and he was more terrible than any orc or undead. The only reason I'm alive is that I made a run for it and tried fighting enemies who weren't beyond my ability to defeat." Didn't that sum up Alexandros' military career perfectly? Renault would be greater.

"In any case, we lack the power to defeat King Arthas directly. I hate the traitor with all my heart and soul, but having him in power in the east is better than the Dreadlord's.

"In time we can challenge him. But what we need is time, time to gather our forces. Solidify our defenses. My brethren in Tauren Mill have already reached an agreement with him, and he is, so far, abiding by it.

"I mean to go to this meeting. I want you to come with me."

Was this a peace offering? To save face after all but disowning Renault for the snot-nosed brat that killed Mother? "As you wish. Saiden Dethronan will no doubt have something to say on all this."

"Then we'd best go to him," said Alexandros. "I'll need you to find someone among the priesthood to represent the Church of Light as well. They'll need to be of sufficient rank to be credible, but also cool-headed."

"Why did you request two traits from our priests that are self-contradictory?" asked Renault.

Alexandros laughed, but it was nervous. Finally, he looked at Darion. "Darion, I must speak with your brother alone for a moment."

Darion nodded and left. Alexandros then looked to Renault. "…Listen to me, Renault, what I said-"

"What you said is what you meant," said Renault.

"The Ashbringer is a powerful sword, Renault," said Alexandros. "It can win a thousand battles, but in the wrong hands it could corrupt the wielder-"

"My hands?" guessed Renault.

Alexandros sighed. "Renault, I am far from blameless. But Darion has something in him that most men lack, myself included." What nonsense, the only thing the boy had was meaningless bluster.

"Then what makes you qualified to wield the Ashbringer?" asked Renault.

Alexandros looked down. "…There was no one else to do it.

"Uther was dead, so was Gavinrad. The whole Alliance was falling into tatters, and Wilhelm was barely together. So I used it and did what I could. I rushed into battle and tried to save anyone I could.

"Others fought with me, and I led them as best I can." He drew the Ashbringer and Renault marveled at its red blade, like a living flame within the metal. "I'm unworthy of the weapon I wield. Few men in the world today are."

"I understand." lied Renault through his teeth.

Lying was easy. Renault had learned to do it very well over the years.

* * *

The view from southern Stratholme had changed a great deal since the last time he had been here. Back then the last had been under assault by blight. It had been wrestling with the darkness constantly. The grass had been dead or dying, and the trees had been withering. Now it was in a sort of twilight, neither fully dead nor fully alive. Yet the war had halted, and it was trapped between the two.

Much like himself. Arthas remembered the words of Malfurion, saying that he and the land were one. Now he wondered if that was really true. Still, it was not presently relevant. He was waiting by the crossroads where he had met the prophet all that time ago, and Alexstrasza was with him.

He looked to the beautiful redhead and appreciated her appearance. Particularly how little she wore at any given time. "I find it ironic that Alexandros Mograine is considered the great hope of the Alliance. I've only met the man once and never fought him. I suppose he got the position by virtue of not being around when all the major battles went down."

Alexstrasza put a hand to his chin. "Be nice, Arthas. We can't afford to alienate him."

"Oh come off it, Alexstrasza," said Arthas. "Every single person I've negotiated with so far has rattled off a list of my sins, but the minute I shoot back, I'm in the wrong."

"No, I just think you should be the better person in these negotiations," said Alexstrasza.

Arthas shifted in mock confusion. "There must be some mistake. I thought I was negotiating with a paladin, not the physical embodiment of sin. It's hard to think of anyone else who could be quite so terrible as myself. Though I admit, you seem to have me at a disadvantage in terms of murder by inaction."

Alexstrasza laughed. "Stop it." Then she halted. "They're coming this way now. I'd best take the lead in these negotiations."

"By all means," said Arthas.

Alexstrasza stepped forward as Arthas faded to the background. Around the corner came a party of three. First, there was Alexandros himself, whose head was balder than before. He had more gray hairs. Then there was a man about Arthas' age with a short orange beard and a hammer on his back. Besides them, however, was a majestically beautiful woman.

She had tan skin that was on display. Her skintight red outfit bared her midriff and long legs. It also showed off her immense curves, particularly her bust. She had long white hair that fell around her shoulders, and she wore a very stylish hat. Her eyes flashed, and she looked with scorn on them.

"Queen Alexstrasza, we have come as called," said Mograine.

"I am glad to see all of you," said Alexstrasza. "However, where is King Wilhelm?"

"Matters to the south demand his attention," said Mograine stiffly. Then his eyes fixed on Arthas. "Prince Arthas."

Arthas let the title slight slide and nodded. "Alexandros Mograine. You're looking well for one of your advanced years."

"I never thought they would be advanced enough to see this happen to my homeland," said Alexandros. Wait, was he not making a self-righteous speech? This was new.

"Well, pride does come before the fall," said Arthas.

"Who are your companions?" asked Alexstrasza quickly.

Alexandros looked to the other man. "This is my son," he turned to the woman. "Renault Mograine, and Inquisitor Sally Whitemane."

"We are honored that you have come to his place," said Alexstrasza. "May I-"

"I shall not parley nor exchange pleasantries with one devoid of the power of the light!" said the woman.

"Sally-"began Renault.

"You and your kind shall pay a price of blood tenfold what you have done to the innocent of this land!" cried Sally. "All all-consuming flame shall wash across every farm, every wood, every tree! The impure and the heretics shall be burned away! The beast races shall suffer and die, their children impaled on stakes as the screaming of-"

"Sally!" said Renault.

Sally Whitemane fell silent and shifted, becoming aware of Mograine's looked. She seemed unsure of how to continue. Best to end this. "…An attitude I can respect, if only because you're obvious about your intentions," said Arthas. "I expect you'll fit right in with everyone else."

Sally Whitemane froze and then scowled in silence.

The bitter laughter disguised a certain paranoia. Arthas had the feeling that the Scarlet Crusade was not as well unified as they'd been led to believe.

* * *

The Scarlet Crusade was not as well unified as some thought. When Alexandros had 'founded' it, it had been little more than a name. Something to give the illusion of a unified war effort where there was none. There had been dozens of different small bands of heroes that he'd led in a series of battles. In those days he'd been willing to take anyone, as long as they wanted to kill the undead.

When it became a formal order, Alexandros found himself having to mediate disputes. Some among the order were overzealous, and some took that to murderous degrees. For the most part, he'd focused on leading battles and let each faction hold their own ideals. There hadn't been time to do be picky with the Legion rampaging around.

Only now that they were traveling to Stratholme was Alexandros questioning this policy. "Renault, what is she doing here? I thought I told you to pick someone diplomatic."

"I did," said Renault flatly. "Whoever it was had to be high ranking."

"She just launched into a tirade about how she intended to murder the people we are meeting with," said Alexandros. "How is that diplomatic?"

"Yes, and Isillien would have done exactly the same thing." said Renault. "if I'd picked anyone besides these two, I'd be undercutting their authority."

"And how is Sally doing it any better?" asked Alexandros. He remembered a sweet, devout, white-haired girl who his son had played with. Evidently, her faith had taken a different form.

Renault shrugged. "Our enemies may be distracted by her neckline."

Alexandros stared at him. "Is that really why you chose her?"

"There was no way I'd be able to find a high ranking priest who was sane," said Renault. "Isillien has seen to that. Sally, at least, I can reason with."

Alexandros sighed. "Nevermind, I'll talk to her."

Quickly he moved over to Whitemane, who was riding at the back of the formation, looking very awkward. She looked as if she wanted to start screaming blood and death. It was what the priests did to soldiers before battles. Mograine had accepted it as a way to motivate the men when morale was low. That may have been a mistake.

"Sally, do you remember what we talked about before?" he asked gently. "About you being diplomatic?"

"It is diplomatic to tolerate the very existence of these traitorous abominations!" said Sally suddenly. "They should all be destroyed, down to the last ghoul!"

"Yes, and we all agree on that," said Alexandros. "However, in this situation, we cannot afford to kill them. We have to negotiate. So, I would really appreciate it if you did not make any more speeches like that."

"What else can be said to such blemishes on the face of the world?" asked Sally. "They must be destroyed."

Alexandros did not want to be here right now. He had the feeling that he was falling victim to his own ideology. When he'd first gotten back to find the Kingdom in ashes, he'd said a lot of things. He'd ranted and raved and attacked in a fury, letting his anger motivate him where no hope could. "Yes, they must," said Alexandros. "But right now, we need to stall for time. I need you to not doing anything to provoke them. Or give them any kind of idea of their plans. And you shouldn't preach the gospel of the light while we're here either, it could raise tensions."

"You ask me not to preach our holy texts?" asked Sally.

Alexandros sighed. "No, I ask that **you** not preach our holy texts. You have a firebrand style that would alienate the people we're supposed to be meeting with. Actually, it's probably for the best if you say nothing at all."

Sally's eyes flared, and she looked outraged. "But-"

"Does what you are about to say involve death, torture, or dismemberment?" asked Alexandros.

Sally remained silent, then nodded guiltily. Alexandros sighed. "Then don't say it."

They reached the gates of Stratholme later that day. As they did, they saw a great army, or perhaps, many great armies. There were forest trolls, and ogres, and undead and humans. Piles of corpses were being piled. Antonidas met them at the opened gates and rode up to them.

"Alexandros, you arrive at last," said Antonidas.

"Indeed I do, Archmage Antonidas," said Alexandros. "I've heard some, disturbing rumors recently."

"More than rumors I'm afraid," said Antonidas. "We'll discuss the matter in private once everything is settled. For now, we have prepared an area for you to camp. As you can see, the city is ours. A few hours ago, Balnazzar's forces opened the gates and let us in without a fight."

"To what end would they make such a surrender?" asked Renault.

"I imagine they wanted to live," said Arthas. "Their situation was hopeless. Even if my assault failed, yours would come next and finish the task. Balnazzar gave in because he hopes to negotiate a deal. One which doesn't involve his head getting chopped off."

"And you intend to give him one?" asked Alexandros.

"I am considering the possibility, yes," said Arthas. "Much to my chagrin. That is why we're all here. Lordaeron is a complete mess at the moment with no clear borders or unified authority. My hope is that if we get all the faction leaders in one place, we can find mutual accommodation."

Antonidas scoffed. Arthas looked at him. "You have something to say Antonidas?"

"I need not say it, do I?" asked Antonidas, before disappearing in a flash.

Arthas sighed. "Ah, the fortunes of war and the sore unfortunates. We have a great deal to discuss tomorrow. But for now, I will take my leave."

"It would be my darkest nightmare to keep you," said Alexandros.

He was getting far too old for this.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So, remember that conversation where Alexandros assures Darion he'll command the Ashbringer? It becomes a lot less heartwarming when you remember that Renault Mograine was alive. Not just alive, but still good, and an accomplished war hero. And it goes a long way to explain why he stabbed his old man.

Also, the Scarlet Crusade's lore is a mess. Some sources say that Mograine founded the Scarlet Crusade. But others say he merely inspired it.

My interpretation is that Alexandros sort of did both. He inspired the movement and led battles for it. But ultimately the order was sort of built around him. This would explain why it was so easy to keep going after he got killed. He existed independent from the chain of command.

For the record, I don't buy that Alexandros would have had a chance against Arthas. My reading of him is that he was smart enough, or lucky enough, to never run into the high tier scourge enemies. This led to him winning a series of minor victories that gave people a fighting chance. I actually feel this enhances his character. It means Alexandros was just an ordinary man doing the best he could where all the great heroes had failed.


	6. The Congress of Stratholme

**Chapter Six: The Congress of Stratholme**

The next morning Arthas arose from his bed. He had to shift Alexstrasza off him as he did so. Her clinginess, compared with his reluctance to be parted from her, made it difficult. Dressing in his clothes and armor, he made his way out. He walked the rooms of the manor he'd set up his base on, and finally came to a balcony. Walking onto it, he looked down over where the powers of Lordaeron were assembly.

Then he felt Alexstrasza wrap her arms around him from behind. "Well, there certainly seem to be a great number of people gathering here, aren't there?" Her lips were by his ear. "Nothing like this has ever happened before, Arthas. Never before have this many races come together in one place."

"Please don't try and pretend as if this is some great moral accomplishment, Alexstrasza," said Arthas, shaking her off. "They're here to get what they can because they know that we are the stronger."

"That we can all be agreeing on, mon." said a voice.

Arthas whirled around, drawing his sword and put it to Zul' jin's throat. The troll raised his hands quickly. After a moment, Arthas drew it back and sheathed the weapon. "Zul' jin, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I not be liking all dis meeting with da humans and elves," said Zul' jin. "They not gonna be following any treaty they agree to. Why make a treaty at all?"

"You have a better plan?" asked Arthas.

"Well, right now der leaders all be hanging out all in one place. Vulnerable," said Zul' jin. "I be thinking we take advantage of the fact."

"No," said Alexstrasza firmly, summoning her staff.

"Oh, be coming on-"began Zul' jin.

"Zul' jin, even if I were willing to stoop to murdering someone in parley, which I am not, that is a terrible plan," said Arthas. "It would discredit us in the eyes of the other factions and create martyrs to justify future wars.

"No, we must come to an agreement. And once we have one, we just need to enforce it."

"My people made many agreements. Da high elves broke em all," said Zul' jin.

It was true. There had been a series of treaties early in history. Each one promised the trolls a given land. Invariably a valuable resource would be discovered. Then the treaty would be torn up, and there would be another war.

Arthas looked to Alexstrasza, who stepped back. She was leaving this to him, so he turned to Zul' jin. "Yes, because they were stronger. Because you had no support, they didn't suffer any consequences for their betrayal because you were alone.

"You are not anymore. If any of these factions betray us, we will crush them.

"And if I wanted to destroy the last semblance of old Lordaeron I could do it. Now."

Zul' jin nodded. "I be understanding."

"Good," said Arthas. "Then I expect you not to ask about this again."

Zul' jin nodded and departed. Arthas looked to Alexstrasza and felt the desire to hold her. It was mutual, he could tell. But both had worked to do. "We have meetings to attend.

"Alexstrasza, you had best speak with the Alliance. Kel'thuzad will fill in for me."

"Why?" asked Alexstrasza.

"I want them to regard me as your tool," said Arthas. "A necessary evil to be used for the greater good. If I'm standing behind you while you make your presentation, it will look like the other way around. Kel'thuzad will suggest the unpleasant parts of the arrangement. You'll bargain him down, so everyone believes your in control."

Alexstrasza smiled. "But I am."

Arthas kissed her, then drew back. "Why don't we discuss that tonight."

They parted ways. But Arthas looked forward to tonight.

* * *

It was a circular terrace overlooking one of the more intact streets of Stratholme. Much work had been done to repair the damage and clean the streets. But everyone remembered what had happened here, so it was something of a moot point.

Alexstrasza looked to Kel'thuzad, then the assembled guests. Then she walked forward, conserving her glamor for the appropriate moment. "Men of the Alliance, we have come here to mend the unbearable gulf that has arisen between the people of this land. It is my hope that together, we may end the strife that has possessed this realm and build a better future."

"Alexstrasza, you have guarded the world for many ages," said Antonidas. "However, all of us are in short temper, and I think it would be best if you got to the point."

Alexstrasza nodded. "As you wish.

"There are three matters I wish to discuss today. First, I wish for you to recognize the formal resurrection of Alterac as a Kingdom."

"You ask a great deal at once, don't you?" asked Calia. "They betrayed us to the Horde."

"Aiden Pernolde betrayed you!" snapped Blackthorn. "And we paid for it in the annihilation of our capital and the rape of our women! What penalty was given to Thoras Trollbane for his brutality? None!"

"What penalty was given to you?" shot back Magroth.

Alexstrasza sent forth her will to draw their attention. She sought to move their hearts away from hatred. "Please, all of you. We cannot afford to come to blows when it is an end to war we all seek. King Terenas himself sought to reestablish Alterac and had it not been for the machinations of Deathwing that may well have happened.

"We have all caused each other to suffer. But if we allow the sins of the past to determine our future, this will never end."

"What are you proposing, exactly?" asked Calia. "Alterac is dead. Most of the land it once possessed is now part of the Kingdom of Strahnbrad. Having dwelled there, I assure you that King Wilhelm is quite popular among his people. Shall we dispossess them so that Blackthorn may lead them? Grow fat on them by taxes instead of banditry."

"Is it banditry to raid an enemy town?" asked Blackthorn. "You did not think so when Trollbane burned his way through our homes."

"I was not suggesting a restoration of Alterac to its previous borders," said Alexstrasza. "To do so would only invite further bloodshed. Nor was I suggesting that Blackthorn be made King of Alterac, he serves another. Aliden Pernolde, the rightful king of Alterac."

"Aliden?" asked Calia, glancing around. "And where is he?"

'My brethren and I were sent into Lordaeron to raid and steal." said Blackthorn. "Our goal was to fund the reconstruction of our home. Aliden is protecting his people and seeing to it that what prosperity can be achieved is.

"While we are owed the full extent of our original territories, we are willing to settle for less."

"I wish for those here to agree to recognize Aliden as King of Alterac. As well as all territories, he now controls as his rightful property," said Alexstrasza. "In exchange, all attacks on the people of the Alliance will halt. With luck, trade may be established between your people and old wounds forgotten.

"Certainly, the flow of goods will be better than the launching of arrows."

Calia paused. "…I cannot promise anything on the part of Strahnbrad; however, I will speak to Wilhelm on the subject. I believe he may accept."

"As will I," said Alexandros Mograine suddenly. "What happened in Alterac was a terrible abuse of power, and I would rather live in peace than war."

"I see nothing to gain by continued hostilities," said Antonidas.

Alexstrasza turned to where Lord Garithos sat in his armor, leaning on his axe. "Lord Garithos?"

"King Arthas has bid me put forth my full support in this measure," said Garithos.

"And where is King Arthas?" asked Whitemane, voice scornful. "Can he not stand before us? Is he so-" She was elbowed by Renault and fell quiet. Alexstrasza sensed a certain madness in this one and did her best to ignore the matter.

"King Arthas is negotiating with the leaders of the trolls, ogres, and other such races," said Alexstrasza. "I convinced him that his presence here would merely be detrimental." There were looks among them. All of them were now beginning to believe that Alexstrasza was the true power here. No doubt Arthas was initiating a similar plan with the other races.

Alexstrasza spoke again. "I felt it would be best if the two sides of this conflict settled their differences."

"You felt correct," said Calia after a moment.

"What of the ogres in Alterac?" asked Blackthorn. "Ever since Arthas wiped out our orcish associates they've been moving in."

"That can be discussed later when they are present," said Alexstrasza. "For now, we must focus on the next matter. Kel'thuzad, I believe you wished to present this… proposal personally." And here came the bad part of the agreement.

"Indeed," said Kel'thuzad, floating forward. "I wish for the formal recognition of King Arthas as the rightful leader of Lordaeron."

"You're joking?" said Renault. "You're asking us to bend the knee when he'd have to fight multiple wars to take down half of us."

"It's a mere formality, to be honest," said Kel'thuzad. "The nature of his dominion will be different from Lordaeron of old. All of the races and people who live under him will be free to govern their own affairs. His role will simply be as a… mediator of sorts. When a disagreement between any faction appears, he or his agents will deal with it.

"In exchange, you will also be obligated to offer the services of your armies in time of war. As for tribute, he does not need any gold or silver. Merely the corpses of any criminals guilty of capital offenses in order to fuel his armies. The Cult of the Damned will also be free to preach His name."

"And what is the benefit for us?" asked Renault. "Why should we acknowledge him?"

"Because if you do not, we will crush the Scarlet Crusade to pieces and then grind those pieces to dust," said Kel'thuzad quite calmly. "You seem to have forgotten who won this war, Mograine."

"I take it that Alterac is exempt?" said Blackthorn.

"Of course," said Kel' thuzad. "Our agreement with you was made before this congress and continues to hold." The anger was palpable, Kel'thuzad was doing his job well.

"This is outrageous; we will not be-"began Antonidas.

But Sally Whitemane stood up. The motion sent her ample breasts bouncing with the movement as she raised her staff. Light shone from it. "Absurd! You would have us willingly give the corpses of our fellow men to your abominable dark practices! The Scarlet Crusade will never abide by this! We will call forth the full fury of the light and consume all who oppose us!

"The screams of tormented sinners shall ring throughout the world! All who-"

"Silence," said Alexstrasza.

Sally Whitemane opened her mouth, but no words came out. The light on her staff went out. Alexstrasza moved forward toward her and stood with their faces inches apart. She stared into Whitemane, and their wills clashed. "Sit down. Now."

Sally did so quickly, shuddering. Then Alexstrasza turned to Kel'thuzad. "Kel'thuzad, do you truly expect them to submit to these terms? I heard nothing about these from Arthas. This is meant to herald the end of the war. Yet you have nearly undone all that work."

'The victor in any conflict may determine the terms to his own advantage." said Kel'thuzad. "We are the victor."

"And how long will you remain so when you have alienated all the surrounding lands?" asked Alexstrasza. "How quickly did the Dreadlord's fall when all the world was their enemy."

"Do you have an alternative suggestion?" asked Kel'thuzad.

"You cannot ask these people to accept the Cult of the Damned as an official religion," said Alexstrasza. "Not after all that has happened. And all the atrocities that have been committed."

"I might name some atrocities performed by the worshippers of the light, but I take your point," said Kel'thuzad. "I am prepared to negotiate on the subject. But the scourge requires fresh corpses to maintain our numbers. Now that peace is on the verge of breaking out, we must have another source than the violation of graveyards."

"Perhaps a tax," said Calia.

Kel'thuzad looked to her. "A tax?"

"Yes," said Calia. "When a criminal is executed for a capital crime, it should be possible for their body to be ransomed. A one-time payment and it will be buried naturally."

Whitemane seemed to be trying to speak. She looked to Alexstrasza, desperately desiring to speak her mind. With a sigh, Alexstrasza let her speak. "Would you have us pay tribute to the undead in any form, Mograine?"

"I wouldn't think of it as paying tribute, Sally," said Renault. "Remember, the bodies of those sent to them will be the worst society has to offer. Criminals, murderers, cutthroats. And even they can be saved if someone intervenes on their behalf."

"But they're people!" said Whitemane. "To yield their bodies to the undead, even the worst of them is a betrayal." Alexstrasza worked to shift her will to more positive thoughts.

"Speaking as an undead, I find my existence quite preferable," said Kel'thuzad.

"Whitemane, while your concerns are not unfounded, I must ask you to remain calm," said Alexandros. "These discussions can be made with the rest of the Scarlet Crusade later. We are merely hearing the matter.

"Queen Alexstrasza, may I ask why you are supporting this?"

Alexstrasza looked away, doing her best to look sad and guilty. "Sometimes, even Guardians must compromise their principles. I want the killing in Lordaeron to stop. King Arthas was my means of achieving that goal. He is not entirely lost to the darkness, and he is relying on me for support."

"I assure you, Queen Alexstrasza, this will be a difficult thing to sell," said Alexandros. "Giving the bodies of our dead would be nearly impossible to negotiate with my priests. They are very fanatical."

"Then perhaps you can suggest an alternative?" said Alexstrasza.

"…Perhaps a monetary tax?" said Whitemane desperately. "The Scarlet Crusade's innermost lands have gone unravaged by the scourge. Some among our priests have amassed large quantities of wealth. I am certain money may be valuable, even to the undead."

Kel'thuzad paused. "Very well, then. We will discuss the details another time."

"If I might speak, I have a request," said Magroth as he stood.

"Of course, Magroth," said Alexstrasza.

"My brethren and I are warriors of faith, not governors," said Magroth. "While we have sought to preside over our people as best we can, we have no desire to become kings in our own right. It is our desire that a member of the Lordaeron Royal family rules over us directly.

"Princess Calia, it is our desire that you take up the rule of Tauren Mill."

"I suppose my answer depends on whether King Arthas will allow it," said Calia.

"King Arthas was made aware of this some time ago, by me," said Alexstrasza. "He has already given his blessing."

"Magroth, have you actually offered tribute to these abominations?" asked Sally, looking warily over at Alexstrasza.

Magroth sighed. "I've seen far too much slaughter for one lifetime. If it means the fighting will end, I'm willing to give up the worst parts of humanity. And I have my doubts if fighting would do any good."

"The Kirin Tor must yield to the reality of the situation, of course," said Antonidas.

"What is the last item on the agenda, then?" asked Rhonin.

"Formal recognition of the Forest Troll dominions inA. As well as the other less prominent races land rights." said Alexstrasza. "And once we have decided on that, there is the matter of the Dreadlord's to consider."

All this to be decided in a council where Arthas was not present. Alexstrasza could tell by their looks what they were thinking. They now believed Arthas to be little more than a front for Alexstrasza to gain control. One who was not fully in control of his own subordinates. And as a result, they were eating out of her hand.

This partnership with Arthas had been immensely profitable for both of them. Alexstrasza was beginning to wonder if Lady Proudmoore would accept a second spouse. She'd never walked down an aisle in white before.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So here we have a negotiation chapter. This is one of those chapters that is nobodies favorite, but which has to happen. Enjoy.


	7. Black Comedy

**Chapter Seven: Black Comedy**

**Years before the Events of Orcs and Humans:**

One of the worst things about being a Goddess was that you could see where things were headed.

Nozdormu might have had power over time, but Alexstrasza could see the future herself. She just had to influence it the old-fashioned way. Right now, Alexstrasza knew exactly where this was going.

They were approaching a crisis point. If the meeting that was about to happen didn't go well, she'd have to use a fallback plan. A fallback plan that might require sacrificing an entire continent to kill one demon. If things went well, on the other hand, she might be able to stall until the younger races were stronger. Powerful enough to win against Archimonde without the need for the Battle of Mount Hyjal.

It all came down to this — a meeting in a cozy little room with a desk and lots of good books. Her quill was scratching over some papers, trying to get them half done. The papers were for effect, and the effect could push things in her favor.

But it all came down to choice.

"Queen Alexstrasza, Aegywynn is here to speak with you." said a servant.

Alexstrasza leaned back in her chair. Korialstrasz was gone, sent to take a place among the Kirin Tor under the alias Krasus. A necessary step to prevent the organization from slipping off the right path. But it had made things lonely. "I see.

"Send her in."

Alexstrasza prayed to whatever powers outranked her that Aegywynn be polite. If so, she could put down her pen, and they could talk like normal people. But, of course, here she came, radiating an aura of blue magic: her pale hair and unearthly beauty on full display.

Did she think she impressed anyone? Alexstrasza did take on an appealing form by nature, but she didn't go around making displays. "Queen Alexstrasza, I am here to demand an explanation."

Alexstrasza sighed and kept writing the letter. It was addressed to Krasus and was informing him of a severe famine. If the Kirin Tor could use their magic to transport shipments of grain for sale, it could save thousands.

Not that Aegywynn, the Guardian, was aware of this.

"Alexstrasza-" began Aegywynn.

"I don't care how important you think this is, Aegywynn." Said Alexstrasza, feeling exhausted. "If I don't sign these documents, a lot of people could starve to death. So you'll sit down and wait, or leave." If she did leave, there was really no point in having this discussion in the first place. Anyone that heartless would be a lost cause.

But Aegywynn did sit down, which, on a positive note, meant disaster might be averted. On a more somber one, Alexstrasza was going to have to talk with Aegywynn. As she put her seal down, she reflected that there had been a time when this had been easy.

Alexstrasza remembered a troubled young girl who'd had vast amounts of responsibility. She'd wanted to help and advise her, but where had that girl gone?

Oh wait, she hadn't gone anywhere. That was the problem.

"Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" asked Alexstrasza, finishing her work. "How can I help you?"

Aegywynn shifted beneath her gaze. She really hadn't changed at all, had she? Years of careful advice, of trying to teach had done nothing. It was the lack of change which made Alexstrasza regard their meetings with dread.

"My powers as Guardian of Tirisfal are diminishing," said Aegywynn.

Alexstrasza felt all the more depressed. For both reasons. "Well, old age does take it's a toll on humans sooner or later. We wouldn't have a process for transferring those powers if it wasn't necessary from time to time.

"I imagine you ought to seek a successor, soon."

"I have plans in motion for that already," said Aegywynn.

It wasn't cute when she pretended to be in absolute control of the situation anymore. Alexstrasza had let go of the illusion of control millennia ago in the War of the Ancients. "Of course you do, though I must wonder why you are coming to me at all if things are in hand. Your reports speak about how you are purging the Guardians of Tirisfal of corruption."

That was a good way of saying that the Guardians were seeking employment elsewhere. With new mages guilds popping up across the world, there were other options.

Aegywynn shifted again. "It is... about the recent invasion by demons."

"Oh yes, that," said Alexstrasza, remembering that battle. Things had fallen apart for a bit, owing to the collapse of the Guardians in that region. "It was a result of a death cult that sprang up. You don't need to worry; I redeemed several critical members. The reigning governments have arrested most of them on charges of banditry.

"The Kirin Tor will take the spellcasters, and the masquerade will be restored." Or what was left of it.

"I wonder if you do not put too much faith in hiding these matters," said Aegywynn. "People deserve to know the threat they face."

Not this again. If Aegywynn cared about people knowing the truth, it would take a few letters to the right people to release it. As it was, she'd taken the far less efficient route of running the order into the ground. Thus why Alexstrasza had arranged for the Kirin Tor.

"When I judge they are capable of fighting said threat, I will reveal it," said Alexstrasza, deciding to play the part. "Tell children too much, too soon, and you'll only terrify them."

"In any case, about the coming of the Burning Legion," said Aegywynn. "I want to know what measures are in place to prevent another invasion." She'd obsessed over those prophecies. Aegywynn wanted to be known as the greatest Guardian ever. She did not want to stall the legions plans, or defeat them simply. Aegywynn wished to destroy the legion, to 'win' so to speak.

"You are in charge of those measures, Aegywynn," said Alexstrasza.

"Spare me." scoffed Aegywynn, showing that same arrogance she had picked up as she grew older. "I know well that you Dragon Aspects are merely utilizing me for one part of the war. You say I am the Guardian of Azeroth, and yet the Western Lands are still barred to me. My predecessor might have been content to remain blind but-"

"Just stop!" said Alexstrasza in exasperation.

"What?" said Aegywynn.

"Aegywynn, you're only embarrassing yourself," said Alexstrasza. "Do you think I didn't know about those adventures you had in Kalimdor? You've been setting yourself up as an Oracle. You've spread the word about how you saw the threads of creation when they were woven.

"Speaking as one who did, I didn't see you there."

Aegywynn froze in place, staring at her. Her eyes widened. "You knew."

"I knew," said Alexstrasza. "Contrary to what you believe, I am not blind. I gave you one restriction in your operations. Do not go to Kalimdor. And you broke it."

Aegywynn was obviously taken aback, but her mind quickly came up with excuses. "You never explained why-"

"I shouldn't have to," said Alexstrasza, feeling tired and miserable. "I am a Goddess, Aegywynn, endowed with divine power before the breaking of this world. I fostered humanity when it would have otherwise been wiped out. I organized the alliance between elf and human and set in motion the founding of Arathor. The Guardians of Tirisfal were founded by me.

"The fact that I've done that should earn me some respect. I told it was a terrible idea, and you ignored me, going to set up your own little religion."

"And yet you took no action to stop me," noted Aegywynn.

"Why do you think your powers are diminishing?" asked Alexstrasza.

"That was..." began Aegywynn.

"You swore an oath to uphold the safety of all races, without personal desire," said Alexstrasza. "You broke that oath for your own personal desires.

"So now your power is deserting you.

"Haven't you ever wondered why there have never been any rogue Guardians of Tirisfal?"

Aegywynn held her gaze. She was trying to find a way in which this was not her fault. "I assumed you picked ones who would obey without question and never change the status quo."

"You assume a great deal," noted Alexstrasza. "Those Guardians of Tirisfal who slip into darkness lose their power. It is divinely gifted and cannot be used for evil."

"Evil?" said Aegywynn, voice sounding angry.

She was overreacting as always. "I'm not saying you are evil, Aegywynn. Only that you are selfish and have been getting dangerously reckless."

"I had no choice!" snapped Aegywynn.

That was an interesting statement. "And why not?"

"You..." Aegywynn now looked more like the child she'd been at first. "You never acknowledged me. When I became Guardian of Tirisfal, you promised that you would share the greater secrets with me! Like all my predecessors before!

"I've spent my entire life, hundreds of years, purging demons and saving people!

"And... I...

"You never told me anything. I had to find out on my own?"

Was Alexstrasza supposed to feel sympathetic here? She wasn't for some reason. It was a strange experience for a goddess who loved all things. Perhaps it was because discipline was part of love. However, young Aegywynn looked, she was centuries old.

She'd had plenty of time to grow out of this. "Are you done?"

"Am I done?" asked Aegywynn, sounding furious.

"I never told you anything because I knew that if I did, it would be shouted to the high heavens," said Alexstrasza. "You've made a show of yourself and made the Guardians of Tirisfal a household name.

"You're welcome in every court on the continent. People write to you, asking you to honor them with knowledge. And you give out little tidbits to your favorites. You sell the knowledge of the arcane to your sycophants." Granted, Alexstrasza had suggested some of them hit her up for information. But that didn't change the facts.

"It is-" began Aegywynn.

"Right now you're going to say that it is better if they know the truth of the enemy they face," said Alexstrasza. "That is a valid perspective.

"But it is not yours.

"If you felt that the Guardians of Tirisfal were obsolete, all you would have had to do was give out your knowledge. You could have picked out certain documents and had them released gradually. Made a trial of your plan and acted from there.

"You didn't do that because you aren't a hero. You're a glory hound."

"Who are you to lecture me on heroism?" snarled Aegywynn, and Alexstrasza already knew what she would say. You who-"

Alexstrasza cast a spell, and Aegywynn's words went silent. She strove to speak, and nothing happened. She tried to stand up, but her limbs would not obey. "No, no, no, I'm not taking this speech. Not from you. From a soldier who has watched his kingdom fall down around his eyes, I'll endure his slings and arrows. He would have earned that much. But you, Aegywynn, have lived a charmed life.

"You were given free room and board and training with magic for free. You've never had to worry about starving to death, or disease, or even old age. You have not lost any close friends, because you've never had any close friends. You slept with the other apprentices to get them to take a dive during the tests. You slept with the masters to get them to favor you.

"Then you had the nerve to hold a grievance when they didn't take you seriously.

"From there, you proceeded to ruin most of their careers, out of spite. You did a great many good deeds, I'll admit, but it was your underlying reason that was the problem. You were so dead set on proving yourself that you failed your responsibilities.

"For centuries, I tried to convince you to work with the others. You ignored me. I tried to convince the Order to work with you, but you behaved as a Queen. I warned you several times, but you ignored me.

"Now the Order of Tirisfal is all but dead. A consistent lack of leadership on your part has seen many mages jump ship for greener pastures. The Kirin Tor and the Wizards of Stormwind will soon make them obsolete.

"And all the while, you were tossing fireballs and blowing things up so you could show off." She released the silence spell.

Aegywynn's eyes were wide open, and she seemed to be trying to find something to say. She'd thought she'd gotten away with all those things with none the wiser. "You... how..."

"I'm not blind, Aegywynn," said Alexstrasza flatly. "The irony of all this is that you didn't have to cheat. You probably would have passed with flying colors and been known as a fine mage. But then you'd have to leave it to the next generation to make the first female guardian, wouldn't you?

"And now things have come full circle.

"I wonder, Aegywynn if it ever occurred to you that the child you bear in your womb might have wanted to be a baker. Or a knight in shining armor." Hadn't Alexstrasza been trying to make this a civil conversation?

"I..." said Aegywynn.

To hell with civility. "Why are you here, Aegywynn? To fish for information? Perhaps get some last-minute acknowledgment that I've never taken you seriously?

"Don't worry, I've never taken you seriously. I've tolerated you and spoken soft words to get you to try and make something of yourself. And you've shot me down every time.

"Are you the worst person I've ever met?

"Because I feel like I dislike you more than Sageras and his broods. Most of the demons are just acting true to their nature. Given how their worlds are corrupted they probably couldn't have turned out any other way. What's your excuse?"

Aegywynn shuddered visibly. Even she knew what if meant if the Aspect of Life mildly disliked you. "You don't have to answer that if I heard every excuse you've come up with, we'd be here another nine months.

"So, why don't we cut to the chase.

"You've come here for information. I'm not going to give you any. Not because you're evil, per se, but because you're a spoiled womanchild who never grew up. And I can't trust you." Why had she even bothered trying for that possible future? Had Alexstrasza expected to have a productive conversation with Aegywynn? What was she thinking?

Honestly, she'd be better off putting a firebolt through her. She could abort the whole future right there. The problem was that doing that would throw all the planned futures they had set up into a lake of fire. Even Nozdormu wouldn't be able to predict what happened.

And the next stage of the cycle had to take place. If certain people weren't born...

Well, it could make even larger problems. So Alexstrasza stood up and walked past her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Mommy has a meeting with an actual adult. Casting a love spell on Nielas Aran so you could bear his child, then walking out without removing it, was very mean. I have to remove it before he does something rash in his manufactured grief.

"I'd ask you to do it yourself, but, well, you've never taken responsibility for any of your actions before. Why would you start now?"

And she walked to the door.

"That's it?" said Aegywynn.

Alexstrasza stopped. The incredulous statement made her realize that she was on the verge of giving up on Aegywynn. Alexstrasza had made a point of never giving up on anyone, so this was actually serious. It was the primary justification for which the fiasco that was the old timeline had been tried.

Even so, Alexstrasza was having a difficult time coming up with an alternative. Then she remembered something she'd written up in her spare hours. She turned to Aegywynn. "That's it.

"Oh, that's right. I'm an all-loving goddess, and I'm obligated to give everyone a chance at redemption, no matter how long a shot." She walked back to the table, grasped what she'd written, and handed it to Aegywynn. "Here's a list. Pick a name. You'll train one of those students as the new Guardian of Tirisfal and pass the power on to them."

Aegywynn took it and looked over it. As she did, she frowned, then looked up. "It just says Kel'thuzad."

That was right, Alexstrasza hadn't gotten very far in the list. Oh well, improvise. "Yes, the boy is about twelve. He's of peasant stock and got into the Kirin Tor through sheer genius. He has a strong friendship with Antonidas, one of the rising stars. His thirst for knowledge is endless, and he is skilled, but the enmity of noble-born mages follows him.

"I believe him being made Guardian of Tirisfal would be an excellent first step. There his connection to Antonidas will prove a strong foundation. In the Kirin Tor itself, however, he's liable to go down a dark path. Social stigma will cause him to become isolated."

If Kel'thuzad became Aegywynn's student, the two would actually work well together. Both were notable for limitless ambition. Alexstrasza saw a possible future where Medivh's was discovered by Kel'thuzad. The young prodigy used his abilities to exorcise the spirit. The Guardians of Tirisfal became a powerful force for good. Medivh became a powerful mage, and Kel'thuzad the next, and greatest of all the Guardians.

"You said you had a list of names," said Aegywynn.

"I said I had a list, and I wanted you to pick a name off it," admitted Alexstrasza. "However, I have no faith in your ability to make rational decisions, so I only wrote the one I think is the best choice.

"You could go to Dalaran now and look around, and run an alternative candidate by me. But it would require me to clear it."

Aegywynn shifted. "I... I should be able to pick my own successor."

It was time to put down an ultimatum. If Aegywynn made a half-hearted attempt at redemption this late, it would be as bad as staying defiant. "And you can.

"But if you want to get my respect, you'll have to redeem yourself in my eyes. So unless you can make a convincing case on behalf of another student, it's Kel'thuzad or the King's Road." Alexstrasza wasn't even asking her to restrict herself to Kel'thuzad. Just that Aegywynn put the work in to find a successor, or, alternatively, choose the one Alexstrasza thought best if she didn't want to.

Several alternate possible futures flashed before Alexstrasza. She saw one where Aegywynn befriended Kael'thas Sunstrider. He became the Guardian and did much the same as Kel'thuzad. Though some were concerned about elvish dominance. In another, Antonidas was chosen and did well in his career. Kel'thuzad tired of his treatment by the rest of the Kirin Tor. He joined the Guardians instead, or perhaps-

"But... he's a peasant and... and a boy," said Aegywynn.

Alexstrasza stared at her, her jaw dropped. Everything Aegywynn had been done had been motivated by discrimination against her. Real or imagined, that had been her defining motive. And now she was rejecting a chance to fix her mistakes out of simply sexism. She couldn't possibly be serious.

Then Alexstrasza saw all those possible futures instantly severed. Aegywynn was going to reject the whole thing out of hand. All because Alexstrasza had recommended a male. Thus becoming what she hated.

And just like that Kel'thuzad and Antonidas stayed in the Kirin Tor. They advanced, but political pressure caused them to become estranged. Kel'thuzad's insatiable thirst for knowledge leads to him being stripped of his titles. So he went to Northrend. He fell into darkness, and so many others fell into darkness with him. Entire civilizations would be destroyed — the land scarred beyond recognition, and unending war consuming the world.

And Aegywynn? She went on to bear a male child.

It was... actually pretty funny.

Alexstrasza began to chuckles. It was low at first but grew louder. Her shoulders began to shake as chuckles became laughter. Laughter became hysterical howling. Aegywynn stepped back in terror as Alexstrasza the Lifebinder collapsed to her knees. She was unable to stand back up again. Tears fell from her eyes as she made the signs to teleport to Stormwind.

Appearing before the gates, she could not control the black mirth spilling out of her. All that had been done, all the carnage and destruction was Aegywynn's fault. Billions were going to die, and all Alexstrasza could do was laugh.

Why?

How could she, the all-loving goddess, laugh at this? Had some screw that had been worked at for years on end finally gotten knocked loose? Or was this some mania her releasing the endless frustration?

One of the best things about being a Goddess was that you knew where things were headed.

* * *

**Present Day:**

Detheroc and Balnazzar were cowering against the far side of the cell. Alexstrasza remembered what had happened just now? Hadn't Balnazzar been making smug declarations that he would cooperate for now? She'd come in, and he'd immediately start playing the part of cloak and dagger.

If Alexstrasza had used her usual approach, she might have gotten him to accept defeat. But it would only lead to an endless game of cloak and dagger, ending with one side dead. So she'd tried for something else.

So she'd begun to consider how best to get off on the right foot while they talked and had said nothing. Then she'd got lost in thoughts, remembering Aegywynn. Then she'd reflected that she'd been harder to get to repent than these ones. After that, the memories never stopped. And somewhere along the line, she'd begun to laugh with her past self.

Now she was chuckling on her knees while the Dreadlord's had their backs flat against the wall. "Why are you laughing?!" asked Balnazzar in obvious terror.

Alexstrasza realized she was behaving a bit unprofessionally. She wiped the tears away and stood up. "I... I'm sorry I just...

"You wouldn't understand the context. So are you willing to-"

"Yes! Yes, we agree to all terms!" said Detheroc. "Now get out of here, you maniac!"

"Thank you," said Alexstrasza. "I'm going to be relying on both of you to cure the plague as well as assist in any other fashion I request. Naturally, you'll be kept under guard, for your own safety.

"Can I say you've made the right choice."

And she walked out. Around her were hundreds of guards, standing by with drawn swords. Whitemane was at their head. Alexstrasza blinked. "Is something the matter?"

"...I was interested in observing your methods," said Whitemane. "How did you extract a confession so quickly? I usually have to work at prisoners for an hour before-"

"I won't even dignify that with a response," said Alexstrasza before walking out.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, I had no idea how to write the meeting between Alexstrasza and the Dreadlord's. I tried writing it several times and couldn't come up with anything. Then I had an idea for an alternate universe fic and realized I wouldn't have time to write it.

I also wanted to write a scene between Aegywynn and Alexstrasza. My fics have built up their interactions for some time. So I could do payoff for that and advance the plot.

Also, it is canon that Aegywynn slept around with her fellow students. Given what a morally bankrupt jerk she behaves like, I could see her sleeping with a teacher to get chosen as Guardian. If anything, it makes his attitude toward her make more sense since he seemed confident he could control her.


	8. Farewells

**Chapter Eight: Farewells**

Arthas was pacing at the top of a tower overlooking the sea. His hands were behind his back, and Kel'thuzad was waiting on hand. Something was wrong here, and all the wind and cold air could not distract from it.

As he walked, Alexstrasza entered, looking very pleased. Arthas glanced up as she moved forward. "Well, things worked out quite well with the Nathrezim."

"So I have been informed," said Arthas, looking back north to the sea.

Why north?

"Is something wrong?" asked Alexstrasza in concern.

"It's nothing," said Arthas.

"You've been up here for hours," said Alexstrasza. "Surely, it must be something?"

And then there was a presence. Arthas looked up to see a red mist rising up toward the far end. And out of that mist stepped a tall, stunningly beautiful red-skinned woman with horns. In one hand was a huge axe. "More than you can possibly know, Alexstrasza."

"Kirrasan," said Alexstrasza. "We had an understanding."

"Well, understanding doesn't prevent conflict, does it?" asked Kirrasan. "I only became involved in this because Archimonde asked me to. After that, I got a bit carried away. Duty comes before friendship, after all. Or morality in your case."

"You can't justify your actions without vindicating those who created you, Kirrasan," said Alexstrasza flatly.

"How fortunate for me then, that I simply do not care one whit for either," said Kirrasan. "I'm in this world for my own entertainment."

"What do you want?" asked Arthas, deciding to cut to the chase.

"Sorry to barge in, King Arthas," said Kirrasan. "I would have called ahead, but I'm about to reveal the machinations of your enemies to you. Then when you destroy them, I'll explain why your actions only fulfilled my own schemes.

"The usual sort of business."

"Tell me, is there a difference between Dreadlord's and succubi?" asked Kel'thuzad in deadpan. "Or are you just a lesser female equivalent?"

Kirrasan looked up in irritation. "The difference between a Dreadlord and me? I actually end up completing my goals."

"Then complete them." snapped Arthas in a fouler mood than ever. Why did she feel the need to pose about how she could succeed?

Kirrasan blinked. "...Fair enough. Kael'thas has become the next Lich King."

"What?!" said Arthas.

Kel'thuzad shifted uneasily. Alexstrasza narrowed her eyes.

"Oh yes," said Kirrasan. " He journeyed into the north and found the Helm of Dominion with Ner'zhul's spirit within. Ner'zhul managed to escape death somehow, before returning to his old haunts.

"Kael'thas found him in the ruins of Icecrown and donned the helm. The two of them came to an understanding."

"So they've become one, then," said Alexstrasza.

"Hardly." scoffed Kirrasan. "At present, they are engaged in a battle of wills. But Kael'thas is winning."

"And he means to rule over the Scourge." guessed Arthas. One more usurper then.

"No," said Kirrasan. "He's not a Dreadlord or a power-hungry maniac. He's a hero of Azeroth.

"He means to destroy the Scourge. As soon as he gains power over the Scourge as a whole, he'll order the entire faction to walk into a vulcano. And they will do it."

"How could we not have known of this?" asked Kel'thuzad. "I should have sensed it!"

"Obviously because Kael'thas isn't stupid," said Kirrasan. "He's not going to appear and provide you with exposition about his inevitable triumph. Not when he could just work on overriding the safeguards. Meanwhile, you sit here negotiating and working on your masterstroke. Then, all of a sudden, your minions all commit suicide.

"Then Kael'thas comes back and you are quite dead. And he is hailed as a hero of the Alliance."

"Why would Malygos not tell us of something like this?" said Alexstrasza under her breath.

"Maybe he's not paying attention. Or maybe he approves," said Kirrasan. "Does it depress you, Queen of Life, to know how your ideology has been destroyed?"

"Where is Illidan?" asked Arthas. Depending on the answer, the situation could be very different.

"At present?" asked Kirrasan. "He's Kael'thas most loyal subordinate. I love it when plans get turned against the ones' who made them. It's so much more satisfying than a victory by stupid brute force.

"Not that the Alliance and Horde know anything else?"

"And why are you here? Helping us?" asked Arthas.

"You misunderstand, my King," said Kirrasan smiling. "I don't care who wins the inevitable showdown between you and Kael'thas. I merely want it to happen.

"I've told you what you need to know.

"Do with it as you will." And she faded into the mist.

There was a long, dead silence for a moment. Finally, Kel'thuzad turned to Arthas. "My King, what are your orders?"

Arthas sighed and calculated his options. He was going to have to head to Northrend eventually anyway. He'd had his fleet ready as it was. "Kel'thuzad, you and Alexstrasza will remain here and ensure negotiations continue. I have a journey to consolidate my holdings in Northrend to attend to.

"No one is to know of this. If the Alliance finds out, it could be the start of another war.

"Send word to the harbor and tell the fleet to be ready for war. I have a long journey ahead of me."

Alexstrasza paused. "Are you certain you should trust her? I could-"

"I was going to have to campaign in Northrend anyway," said Arthas. "And I doubt the Legion is able to launch any kind of counterattack."

Arthas set out that very day, while Kel'thuzad teleported ahead to the shipyards. As he traveled, Arthas gathered forces from the countryside. He cursed that it was necessary to move to an alternate port. But if he was seen setting out by all those officials, it would look bad.

As he journeyed, he came to a crossroads and found Jaina waiting there. He halted by her.

"Are you going then, Arthas?" asked Jaina.

"Jaina," said Arthas, unsure of how to feel. "I'm surprised you're back."

"Well, I've been scrying around a bit," said Jaina. "I've had a team of mages scrying on all your meetings. It was ever since you pulled that stunt with Dalaran.

"Off you kill more sentient creatures, then?"

"I am a King," noted Arthas, riding on slowly. "Without war, my existence would be wholly vestigial."

"It doesn't have to be this way," said Jaina, walking beside him.

"Kael'thas is presenting a very real threat to my dominions," said Arthas, wondering how she knew. "And even if Kirrasan is lying, Northrend needs tending to. It can't hurt to reorganize the place a bit."

"Convincing people to join your Death Cult?" asked Jaina.

"And my Life Cult as well," said Arthas. "I imagine establishing both as essential aspects of existence would be in order."

"Why are you trying to protect these abominations? What happened to 'let's study it after we kill it.'" asked Jaina.

Arthas sighed, not feeling up to the usual scorn. "What happened to 'I'm sorry, Arthas, I can't watch you do this?' The answer is the same for both."

"This isn't some moral quandary!" said Jaina. "They're undead! They're not even supposed to be walking around! Most of them would be better off if they were allowed to die!"

Arthas looked at her. "Do you know that, Jaina?"

"You saw what they did to Lordaeron, just like I did," said Jaina flatly.

"You saw what the orcs did to Lordaeron. And they haven't changed at all," said Arthas.

"What?" said Jaina. "Thrall-"

"Thrall is more reasonable than most orcs, but he is no better than Orgrim Doomhammer," said Arthas. "You're only saying he is smart enough to avoid fighting everyone he meets.

"Orgrim was an idiot. He started a fullscale war with the humans on the basis of might makes right. Rather than conquer one place or another, he tried to take it all at once. Thrall is smart, he uses an ideology of redemption to screen himself from the Alliance. At the same time, he makes allies with indigenous creatures to pit them against one another.

"Everyone calls him messiah for taking the slow path to conquest. Not that the Alliance is any better."

"Thrall isn't..." Jaina stared at him. "Mannoroth is dead! The unholy energies driving the orcs are-"

Arthas shrugged. "Killing Mannoroth changed nothing at all. The only reason I have hope for the orcs is that Thrall is moderately self-aware. But let's not use any patronizing ideology to pretend as if the orcs didn't have a choice. They did.

"So did the Cult of the Damned. And they actually had a legitimate grievance. The Alliance had treated them badly.

"I will not suffer them destroyed simply so the Lords of the Alliance will go back to the way things were."

"Do you really think you can accomplish what you're trying to do here, Arthas?" asked Jaina. "People aren't going to unite in friendship because you bludgeon them into submission."

"How fortunate then that I have no interest in universal brotherhood between races," noted Arthas. "The world I envision is a place where the faction leaders are too busy gnawing at one another to rally armies. Once I've established peace, we'll talk about improving the lives of everyday people.

"As for concepts of utopia, I leave the matter to the religiously inclined."

"And what happens if I decide to tell everyone about what happens here?" asked Jaina. "One word from me could send this entire thing falling to pieces."

"Are you going to give that word?" asked Arthas, too tired to be worried.

"You think I won't?" asked Jaina.

Arthas considered the question. "I don't know.

"You are very intelligent and very competent, Jaina. You could cause me some very serious problems if you put your mind to it. I'd much rather avoid a confrontation between us, to be honest."

Jaina shifted. "...You should break off this thing you have with Alexstrasza. You hardly know her."

"No, probably not. I wondered myself if I rushed into things too quickly," said Arthas. "To be honest, I doubt I am any more important to her than anyone else is. Merely a high priority. For all her all-loving nature, she is very calculating.

"Unfortunately, the narrative has become an ingrained part of things.

"Breaking it off at this stage would damage negotiations. Besides, it isn't as though I'm going to be around. I... I will attempt to avoid a war with Kael'thas. It may be that with Illidan, a compromise may be arranged.

"However, I expect it will end in blood."

"Is this all the world is to you now, Arthas? Factions and calculations and math?" asked Jaina. "Kael'thas has destroyed the Legion! Yes, what happened was horrible, but you yourself can't disagree with the results! What reason are you fighting for now if not a simple vendetta?"

Arthas sighed and halted Invincible. Dismounting, he sighed. He thought about the quest for a moment. "I don't want to be here.

"More than anything, I would have liked to retire to Theramore with you. To leave things behind. But I could not leave the Dreadlord's in place. And I could not allow my people to be slaughtered again.

"I do not know what happened to Prince Arthas.

"Perhaps he died. Perhaps he never existed at all.

"Now, I am... King." He felt utterly empty. "I must go to Northrend, Jaina. I must do so, even if it leads to utter ruin because not to would be a worse defeat. To do nothing as the world falls into oblivion is worse than to do badly."

"Then nothing I can do will dissuade you." snapped Jaina. "I don't even know why I bothered coming."

Arthas felt utterly empty. He'd achieved his vengeance, reunited Lordaeron, and crushed the Legion. Now he faced yet another war. He wondered if it would not be better if he died in some faraway land. He wondered if there was any world where this endless campaign had not been set on him, along with the bitter crown.

The answer was obvious. "...I was not brought into this world to live the life of a human. I know that now.

"The Battle of Mount Hyjal, the Third War, it was a time when the utter blackness of the world was thrown back. The mortal races united against evil in a time of heroism that cannot be forgotten.

"But it is only a foundation.

"If the legacy of that time is a neverending cycle of blood and atrocity, it has no meaning. Kael'thas has annihilated whole worlds because they were a threat. His reign will continue as it began. One genocide after another, until eventually he is defeated. Then the same bloody retribution will be dealt to his people.

"So, I must enter Northrend again, to defend the meaning of the past. In the hope of a better future."

For a long moment, Jaina looked at him carefully, she seemed to see something within. Finally, she nodded. "Then, I am going with you."

Arthas sighed. "...I was afraid you would say that.

"Let's go."

* * *

A few days later, Arthas and Jaina came to the port with the forces he had gathered. There they met Kel'thuzad, giving orders. Kel'thuzad bowed to them as they came before the ships. "Your absence at negotiations has been welcomed, King Arthas. The Alliance is now convinced that Alexstrasza is the one truly in command.

"All the preparations for your journey have been made."

"Just keep things going for now," said Arthas, feeling as if he should do. "You have been a loyal friend, Kel'Thuzad. I don't know what the future holds, or if I'll even return, but I want you to watch over this land. See to it that my legacy endures."

"I shall, King Arthas. I shall," said Kel'thuzad.

Looking to Jaina, he nodded to her. Then they set out.


	9. Return to Northrend

**Chapter Nine: Return to Northrend**

It took much less than a month to reach Northrend.

The undead vessels were powered by magic, rather than their ragged sails. They shot through the sea quickly. Combined with water magic from Jaina, Arthas was able to reach the shores of Northrend soon.

Arthas landed on an island a ways away from Daggercap Bay. Here several of his men's ships had been blown off course to crash. He'd had to evacuate them through a number of alliances with the natives, and it had taken time.

There was no one alive on it when he arrived.

The barren and isolated rock was truly mournful, with only a few trees. The scattered remnants of a few campfires and some cut trees were the only evidence of life. Arthas walked to the top of a hill alongside Jaina, carrying a telescope.

"Northrend," said Arthas, feeling like one returning home after a long absence. "It feels like a lifetime since I was last here."

Jaina shuddered, her heat spell having prevented her from freezing to death. But it hadn't helped the curvaceous mage remain comfortable in this weather. "Is it always this freezing?"

Arthas looked up to the sky and remembered the battles fought here so long ago. He smiled at the memory, oddly enough. "Hmm, no, this is actually excellent weather. The sun is out right now, so it isn't quite so cold.

"I wonder how Falric is doing."

"Falric?" said Jaina. "You are sure he's still alive."

"Despite Ner'zhul's best efforts, yes," said Arthas. There had been so many other things to deal with. "I was able to retain enough sanity not to kill him. It may be that we can make contact with him.

"Though he may be an enemy as well." He paused. "I've sent requests for information to the Blue Dragons, but nothing has come to me yet."

"What should we do, then?" asked Jaina.

"Our first order of business is to get to the mainland and contact the undead garrisons in this region." decided Arthas, looking to the sky. "There is a new Lich King to deal with. We must reach Icecrown quickly."

He looked through his telescope at the mainland and frowned. In the distance, he saw the structures of High Elves. They would have had to be here for some time, certainly. And there were dragonhawks launching as they rushed toward them on swift wings.

"So," said Arthas, "Kirrasan information was at least partially accurate. The high elves are here. Ready yourselves for battle, but do not strike until I give the word!" He had only a token force here, he'd dispatched a large part of his fleet to secure other shore holdings.

Perhaps that had not been a wise move.

On they came, landing in large numbers. At their head was a tall, high elven woman with flying red hair. She wielded a magnificent golden colored sword and wore armor that bared her midriff. It also showed off ample bosom, so one wondered why she even bothered. A skirt was beneath her as she swooped down to land before him. "Prince Arthas, I an Lan'athel of the High Elves! We have sworn to avenge the ghosts of Quel' Thalas.

"This dead land... will be cleansed!"

Arthas felt a cold sort of fury at their sheer audacity. Who were these enemies of the Scourge to lay claim to it? As though they had done anything to earn their rule? "Northrend belongs to the Scourge, elf! You made a terrible mistake by coming here. Slay them!"

Jaina teleported between them and cast a spell as a shockwave of magic stopped the two armies. Arthas halted. "Wait!

"Stop!"

"Why?" asked Arthas.

"Arthas, these are our allies!" said Jaina.

"No, they aren't," said Arthas, mystified at how she'd come to that conclusion.

"I find myself in agreement with the Betrayer," said Lana'thal.

"You're calling me a betrayer?" asked Arthas incredulously. "You, the race whose foreign policy can be summarized as 'all take and no give?'"

"Wait, this doesn't have to happen!" said Jaina, before turning to Lana'thal. "Listen, Lana'thal, you are in the service of Prince Kael' thas, are you not?"

Lana'thal paused. "I am."

"Let me speak with your leader," said Jaina. "Prince Kael' thas and I have been friends in the past, and comrades. It may be that we can avert this without further bloodshed."

"You must be joking, Jaina," said Arthas, finding this whole thing absurd.

"Prince Kael' thas does not desire your death," said Lana'thal after a moment, to Jaina. "I am willing to allow you an audience."

"Jaina, you're wasting your time," said Arthas. "Kael' thas and I have been planning to kill eachother for years. He isn't going to bury the hatchet, even if you do flutter your eyelashes at him."

"I was able to reason with you," noted Jaina. Then she looked at Lana'thal. "Take me to Prince Kael' thas."

Lana'thal looked between the two of them with a calculating gaze. Finally, she moved forward and drew out a red stone and handed it to Jaina. "Very well. This hearthstone will guide your teleportation stone."

Jaina took it. "I'll be back."

There was a flash of magic, and she was gone.

There was a long silence. Arthas looked to his men, who wanted blood, then Lana'thal and her men, who were more than willing to give it. Lana'thal planted her sword in the ground. "...You and you warriors may rest easy. There will be no war between us so long as negotiations are ongoing."

Was she going for a surprise attack? Arthas nodded and smiled. "You were a knight of the Alliance, Lana'thal. Lying ill becomes you."

They both wanted this. Lana'thal drew her sword out of the earth and took a stance, as Arthas mirrored the motion. "Well spoken, TRAITOR!"

And then she shot forward, far faster than Arthas expected. Leaping into the air, she stabbed down, and it was all he could do to turn the blade from his throat. On came the elves, clad in golden colored armor with obvious bloodlust. The undead rushed to meet them.

Then Arthas was fighting sword to sword with Lana'thal, parrying, and slashing. She was amazingly fast, and he had trouble reacting. Even so, he sidestepped at the last minute and nearly took her head off.

Their blades clashed.

"I'll admit, you're putting up a better fight than you're vaunted King ever did," said Arthas. "But then he is an avatar of his position.

"He wouldn't represent your people well if he wasn't all talk!"

Shoving her back with Frostmourne, Arthas raised his sword. Sending out waves of dark energy, he resurrected the corpses of the dead. More elves landed on zeppelins to fight. Lana'thal backflipped away and slashed down two ghouls without even looking at them. Sheathing her sword, she sprang forward. She drew it with massive speed, radiating flame.

Arthas was driven back, struggling to hold her back. How had he never heard of these women before?

"You will find that the strength of Quel'thalas goes beyond your mortal comprehension!" said Lana'thal, smiling. "Prince Kael' thas commanded that I guard the shore against you, and by the Light, not one of you undead shall pass!"

Then she radiated a wave of flame that burned away all the undead around them. Arthas slid back, warding the magic off with his own as they circled one another. "I must wonder where you were during the battles in Lordaeron."

"Fighting the undead you sent to ransack my land," said Lana'thel. "I was spared the horrors of the Second War because I did not know how to fight. I missed the conflict of the Third War because I was not near the fighting.

"When it ended, I drove the undead around Silvermoon before me! I hunted them alone, fighting to redeem myself for my absence, and was found worthy of Quel' delar!"

"How splendid," said Arthas. "What is Qul'delar, and why should I care?"

Lana'thal paused, looking a bit disappointed. "Quel' delar. It was forged by the Night Elves."

"So was every sword forged by the Night Elves," noted Arthas, noting the battle was still even.

"Yes, but this was blessed by the Dragon Aspects!" said Lana'thel.

"Why?" asked Arthas. "What was it used for? Who enchanted it, and how were all five dragon aspects convinced to help?"

"Well... um... it's a symbol of resistance against the Scourge!" said Lana'thel, seeming to be grasping at straws.

"The Scourge didn't exist until twenty years ago," said Arthas. "And that weapon looks like it has a pretty standard high-elven design. I find it far more likely that it was enchanted by ordinary mages, and they made the whole thing up so you'd feel special."

"SHUT UP!" snarled Lana'thel, surging forward. "I am special! The pawnshop owner said so!"

She unleashed a flurry of strikes against him, attacking with a berserk fury. Arthas parried each one, finding that he was quite enjoying the fight. Even so, he decided it was about time that he got serious as the fight reached the top of the hill.

"I'll admit, you are proving more dangerous than I'd thought, Death Knight," said Lana'thal. "But I wouldn't have had it any other way!"

And then the ground trembled.

The earth burst open to the left flank, and out of it poured crypt fiends. Hundreds upon hundreds of crypt fiends. At their front was a gigantic beetle-like creature, a monstrous nine feet tall. It had huge pincers instead of hands. Around it were scuttling hundreds of beetles a full foot wide and six inches tall.

"Onward for the Scourge!" cried the creature, in a voice like wind from the darkest pits. "Slay them in my name!"

"Who the-?" began Arthas/

"Damn," said Lana'thal. "It's him! Pull back, wretched! Pull back to the shore!"

The High Elves fled rapidly and as the creature came, Arthas was sure to resurrect those around him. As he did, he halted and looked at some of the bodies and was surprised. Many of them had an unnatural white skin and a receding hairline. They did not appear to be injured or sick, but there was a feral look to them.

"Wretched?" said Arthas. "That's a unique name to call their brethren. Some new elf subspecies?" What did they start breeding when he wasn't looking? How many different subspecies of this endangered race were going to show up?

Nothing personal against Vashj, but Arthas had hoped the Naga would be the last cousin of the High Elves. He turned to the gigantic beetle-like creature. The insects were devouring the corpses. This annoyed Arthas, he'd been about to use those.

"Thanks for the assistance, mighty one," said Arthas.

"I have come to aid you, Death Knight." said the creature, voice making Arthas flinch by his presence. "I am Anub'arak, ancient king of Azjol-Nerub."

"I welcome your aid, Anub'arak, but we have little time for pleasantries," said Arthas. He wondered when Jaina was going to come back and report her failure. Or worse, her success. "We must reach Icecrown immediately.'

And then the ground shook again. Looking up, Arthas saw the whole continent shaking. A vast cliff of ice broke off and descended into the water. Small figures fled this way and that in fear. "Seismic tremors. What tortures this land?"

It was a question he'd have to ask later. Arthas turned back to Anub'arak. "So, Anub'arak, why are you here? Do you serve the Lich King?"

"No." admitted Anub'arak. "I was once a great leader of the Nerubians; however, I was killed in battle and resurrected. Ner'zhul utilized me as a battle commander to keep control of Northrend. The living are always a threat to his empire.

"When Archimonde destroyed Ner'zhul, his hold over me was broken."

"Then why are you helping me?" asked Arthas.

"I am not so easily accepted by an empire that I helped destroy," said Anub'arak. "A decade ago, we Nerubians were the greatest of all the races of Northrend. Now we are scattered and broken, and I am considered to blame.

"I have gathered to me my own retinue and led them. It is my goal to refound my old empire, albeit with a different kind of my people.

"These elves came here recently.

"Ever since they did, I have felt Ner'zhul's mind again. He has combined his efforts with the leader of this expedition. Even now, they are trying to regain control of me."

"And you don't agree?" guessed Arthas.

"I have no desire to spend the rest of existence serving a skeletal orc, however powerful," said Anub'arak. "You, however, seem to be able to exist independent of the Lich King, and through you liberate your servants."

"So you wish to make an alliance against a common enemy?" asked Arthas. He doubted Anub'arak would want to trade one master for another so soon after getting his freedom.

"Yes," said Anub'arak. "I will aid you against these elves. However, in return, I desire something."

"What is it?" asked Arthas.

"The Lich King must be destroyed," said Anub'arak. "I will not give up my free will to that monstrosity again, nor to a successor. And I doubt any of the living races shall mourn his loss."

Arthas considered the power available from becoming the next Lich King. He decided it really wasn't worth it. He smiled and offered his hand. "Well, I believe we have an accord." He offered Anub'arak his hand.

"..." Anub'arak snapped a pincer. "If I clasp your hand, you are liable to lose it."

Arthas drew his hand back hurriedly. "Right, yes, I just thought of that.

"Let's go kill some elves."

"Agreed," said Anub'arak.

This looked like the beginnings of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Nothing personal against Lana'thal. I just can't help but notice that this super special awesome warrior with her totally radical sword is not mentioned anywhere besides Northrend.

In any case, we have something a bit more depressing to discuss, though you've probably heard of it. It still needs to be said.

...

And Blizzard disappoints again. There isn't really any way to say it.

I just opened Warcraft III Reforged a few days ago.

You know how they showed a remastered cinematic? The one that displayed the original intro updated with brilliant new graphics? So you thought that all of the cinematics would be updated.

That was a lie.

They updated the intro for the trailer and nothing else.

The graphics are a bit better, I guess, but I disagree with some of the art design.

They could have easily swapped out all the models in the base game and gotten the same effect.

The new user interface for the pre-game menus is also much worse, ruining the feel of the original.

Starcraft 1 Remastered I liked, despite basically just being a reskin. But this is different.

Starcraft 1 Remastered cost fifteen bucks and told you that it was a graphical upgrade. It said the gameplay and stuff were the same.

Meanwhile, Warcraft III reforged was probably easier to mod but cost thirty bucks. It promised me an expanded storyline and all kinds of amazing improvements. It lied to me in the trailer by telling me the cinematics would be upgraded.

Now I'm sure a lawyer will say that they never promised they'd improve all the cinematics.

But a lie is a deliberate attempt to deceive. And they knew bloody well what they were saying by including upgraded intros. Even if they would never admit it.

Oh, and who could forget that they changed the license agreement for custom maps. Basically, they said that anything you create in the Worldedit now belongs to them.

...

...

You know, for months, I've been really glad that I pre-ordered Warcraft III reforged. I was glad I could get the game without the moral conflict of endorsing Blizzard's support of tyranny. I really wanted to play the game, and even if I probably could have asked for a refund, I pretended I couldn't.

...

...

Warcraft: Orcs and Humans was the first strategy game I ever played. One of the first games I played period, and it really captured me. I remember I had to beg my dad nonstop to let us get it. Those now-primitive graphics were awesome at the time. I still get a rush of nostalgia when I look at them.

I wasn't very good at it, of course. Often I had to get my dad to bail me out, and only in recent years have I beaten the game. Later I bought Starcraft, and I remember it was the first video game story that really got to me.

Up until then, I'd only played RTS games where you lead one side to ultimate victory. So I assumed that when I played the Terrans, I'd overthrow the Confederacy. Then I'd beat the Overmind and conquer the protoss.

I remember that when I played the Ion Cannon mission where Mengsk is revealed for what he was. I honestly didn't think it was the final mission of the game. I figured this was act 2, that we'd beat Arcturus Mengsk and then go on to beat the bad guys.

I still remember when I watched that cutscene, the Inauguration and when it cut out at the end.

I thought to myself, 'that's it?' (edited)

Arcturus Mengsk won? The zerg weren't defeated? We didn't learn anything about the protoss?

It enraged me, and when I played the UED campaign, I enjoyed every minute of crushing Arcturus Mengsk. My vendetta with Kerrigan was formed here, out of a desire to avenge Praetor Fenix.

I played Warcraft III, and loved the characters, cried at the tragedies. The fact that the story only continued in WoW was always a massive disappointment to me. My dad never let me play MMO's, you see because he refused to pay monthly. So I felt like I'd never really be able to finish the story.

My alienation from Blizzard began when I found out Illidan had been reduced to a generic villain. Then killed off as a raid boss. Illidan had, in my mind, been the true hero of Frozen Throne. He was a misunderstood anti-hero persecuted for doing what was necessary. I loved his dynamic with Kael' thas and Vashj, and I shipped Kael and Vashj as well.

But no matter how bad Blizzard's stories got, I never hated them as a company.

Even at their worst, Blizzard seemed like they were trying to make a fun game. Maybe the story wasn't great, but you'd never see them pull a Fallout 76, or release a game that just didn't work.

Blizzard is a pillar of my childhood.

My fanfiction career started because I wanted to address the cliffhanger of Warcraft. I wanted to create some closure. My first fanfic, Bolvar's Folly, was a straight parody that was well received. Later I tried to do a serious fic 'Lord of Azeroth', which went nowhere.

If Blizzard Entertainment had not existed, I probably would not be a writer.

I would never have been able to achieve my technique in storytelling without my fanfics. I was... am... defined by the stories that Blizzard Entertainment told.

I respected Blizzard.

...Never before, in my entire life, have I been genuinely ashamed to have bought a Blizzard game. The idea was inconceivable to me.

Fuck you Activision.

To hell with them, I'm gone.


	10. A Moderate Inconvenience

**Chapter Ten: A Moderate Inconvenience**

The fleet was gathering. Arthas peered from the deck of a vessel at a snowy shore. Lana'thal's men stood ready on the shore, with shields and bows at the ready. Towers had been erected, and barricades were between them.

What was notable was the number of pale and unhealthy looking elves. They were clad in leather at best and didn't have nearly the same weapons. He'd seen similar armaments among peasants used as shock troops. Arthas had never expected the elves to share that particular failing among humanity.

"It appears Lana'thal is waiting for us on the shore," said Arthas. He lowered his spyglass and looking back to Anub'arak.

"What is it?" asked Anub'arak.

"There appear to be a great many of those elves from before," said Arthas. "They aren't nearly so well-armored as the others."

"Shock troops, perhaps?" mused Anub'arak.

"It hardly matters." scoffed Arthas before reaching out with his mind to the undead crewman. "Bring the fleet around to just out of range. The rest of our ships will have arrived, and when they do, we'll launch our assault."

And so they began to assemble. Soon, the fleet meant to meet with them neared, and Arthas looked at it coming round the island. He smiled, ready for the bombardment. "There they are now, we'd best-"

And then there was a feral roar. The water around them shuddered as a silent shockwave went through. Then, out of the seas by the incoming fleet emerged a massive serpent. Its head rose higher than the masts of the ships, higher than the tallest cliffs of Northrend. Its maw was large enough to devour an entire kodo beast whole and filled with razor-sharp teeth.

Out of its mouth poured numerous shards of ice that obliterated three vessels in a single turn of its head. Arthas quickly directed the vessels to sail away. Then two more heads emerged beside it, and then came the body. It was a hydra, and the upper part of its body was as tall as the knees of the mountains.

"What the hell is that?!" said Arthas, scattering his fleet.

"That is Gahz'zilla, a favored pet of the Old Gods," said Anub'arak. What the hell were the Old Gods? "In ages past, it was said to devour whole fleets of merchant ships for a light snack. This may be a moderate inconvenience.

"Cut one head off, and two more will grow from the stump."

"Begin the bombardment!" said Arthas. "We must make landfall soon!"

At once, the undead vessels complied. Their canons unleashed a withering barrage of spheres on the shore. The towers shuddered beneath their attacks, as many of the elves nearly broke at the sound. Arthas took little pleasure from it as Gahz'zilla began to pursue individual ships. It's every movement sent immense waves that shook their vessels as though there was a storm. "Our ships will do no good against that! I'll call for a Frostwyrm, if I can ride it near, I might be able to kill the damn thing."

"It won't do you any good." said a familiar voice.

Arthas looked up and saw familiar, blue-haired elven women appearing. She'd saved him once before during the Third War when he'd confronted Archimonde. Or at least she appeared as an elf. "Tyrygosa. What are you doing here?"

"Lord Malygos did send me to speak with you," said Tyrygosa. "At the moment, it seems you need my help. There aren't any Frostwyrms left in this area of Northrend, we've already put them all to rest.

"If that thing reaches the shore, it could devour entire villages."

"How kind of you to fix the problem you created," said Arthas.

"I might say the same to you," said Tyrygosa.

Then she rushed to the edge of the ship and leaped off. As she did, she shifted and transformed fully into the form of a huge blue dragon. Glancing back, she spoke with open thought. "Atop my back, quickly. I don't fancy my chances alone."

Arthas nodded, he moved forward, leaping on. He nearly missed the mark and fell off as she raised into the air. Behind him, he saw Anub'arak giving orders, and the vessel began to head toward the hydra. Why?

It hardly mattered.

Tyrygosa was rapidly outpacing the vessel. "Any advice on how to kill this beast?"

"The traditional way to kill a hydra is to cut off the head and cauterize it with a torch or fire magic," said Tyrygosa. "However, that seems all the moot point at its size. We'll go for the eyes. Once it is blinded, we can gradually weaken it through blood loss."

Arthas followed her lead, and as they neared the creature, one of its heads looked up. Opening its mouth, it sent forth a wave of freezing air. Tyrygosa flew to one side, but Arthas felt part of his hair freeze as they circled overhead. Drawing his sword, he realized he was nearing the eye. Seeing another head snapping at Tyrygosa, Arthas leaped off, even as she dodged.

Descending toward the hydra-head, he landed atop it and plunged Frostmourne down. The blade was driven down to the hilt, and Arthas then pulled back as it writhed. Using gravity as his force, he slid downwards. As he did, the blade cleaved a vast gulf within its scaly flesh.

The screams of the beast made his armor shudder. Even so, he slid to a halt by the base of its body. One of the heads snapped at him, but Arthas smote it with Frostmourne, and it reeled back bleeding. Arthas then sent a death coil forward, and the unholy magic struck it head-on. The head spewed blue blood as it fell backward. As the beast thrashed, vast waves splashed against the shore, and stones fell from cliffs above.

The last head was not looking at him.

Then the body shook visibly as the prow of a ship impaled the beast in the chest. Keeping his feet, Arthas looked up to see Anub'arak standing alone on the deck. The crew had fled on lifeboats, and now the vessel was splintering.

The last hydra-head screamed in rage and shot down toward Anub'arak. "Anub'arak, look out!" said Arthas.

Anub'arak caught the creature by the mouth with two pincers. The creature struggled to move forward, then to escape as it thrashed visibly. Then it spat icy breath at Anub'arak in a head-on blast. The boat around him cracked and splintered. His armor was covered in ice and yet he hardly moved. "Your concern is meaningless," said Anub'arak simply. "My might cannot be matched!"

Then he twisted the hydra's neck sharply. There was a sickening, snapping noise, and the head fell limp on the broken deck.

At that moment, Tyrygosa flew down out of the clouds. "Quickly Arthas, get back on my back we'll make... another... pass..." She flew to a halt, flying in place while her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "How?"

"As I said," said Anub'arak. "A moderate inconvenience."

"... I'm going to consult with Sapphiron now and tell him, uh..." Tyrygosa paused. "Well, we don't have to worry about Gahz'zilla anymore."

Then she turned and flew off.

"Wait, wait, I need you to fly me back!" called Arthas.

But she was already out of sight. In the end, Anub'arak and Arthas had to make their way back to the shore on the lifeboats. There wasn't actually enough space. Several of the ghouls had to swim behind, though Arthas was sure to throw them a rope.

"What are these Old Gods you were speaking of?" asked Arthas.

"Ancient monstrosities imprisoned by the Titans within Azeroth," said Anub'arak. "They are primal forces of reality, incomprehensible to mortal understanding. Or so the stories say. Azjol Nerub often did battle with one of their number before the coming of the Lich King."

"Which one?" asked Arthas.

"A deity by the name of Yogg Saron," said Anub'arak. "When the scourge rose to power, we were caught in a two-front war. That was where I fell in battle."

"Ah," said Arthas. "And where are they now?"

"Rising," said Anub'arak. "After the Lich King broke the Nerubian Empire, he was faced with the unending tides of Yogg Saron's minions. Most of my time has been spent fighting them. And I still would be now, if Falric hadn't expanded into the region."

"Falric?" asked Arthas.

"Yes," said Anub'arak. "Your lieutenant made a series of unlikely alliances with the denizens of Northrend. Using it, he was able to seize significant portions of Northrend from the scourge. One of those alliances was with the Nerubians.

"When they began to pressure my forces, I made the calculated decision to withdraw. My hope was that the faceless ones would keep them occupied, one that has been vindicated."

"What are these faceless?" asked Arthas.

"A seemingly limitless race of strange creatures, bound wholly to the will of the Old Gods," said Anub'arak. "They are among the least of their minions, but they are numerous. During my own reign, I took care to force them back to chokepoints.

"Thus, they are simple enough to contain. Though sooner or later, I expect an earthquake or cave in will see new ways reopen."

"Why not simply cave in the passages entirely?" asked Arthas.

"The faceless, for all their apparent horror, are very stupid creatures," said Anub'arak. "Their strategies are predictable and easily countered. You need only give them an obvious place to attack. Their vaunted gods rarely interfere.

"Were I to collapse the passages, they would try to dig their way in another way and take me off guard. Keeping one or two easily defended regions open means they will continue to attack there. And so waste large parts of their strength."

"Surely these Old Gods could arrange a change of strategy," noted Arthas.

"I am not altogether certain that victory is even their goal," said Anub'arak. "What they would call a victory might be wholly foreign to you or I.

"Perhaps it amuses them to watch the degeneration of this world. Dark Lords usually have petty motives, once you breach the veil of their godhood."

"This is from personal experience?" asked Arthas.

"Yes," said Anub'arak.

As it turned out, attacking the elven fortifications was anticlimactic. Most of the elves had fled, mewling like animals after a prolonged bombardment. The others, not liking their chances, had staged a withdrawal.

Thus the beaches were taken with hardly any effort at all.

Oh, and there was a hydra-thing they had to fight, but that hadn't been all that hard.

"These elves are pathetic," said Arthas. "It's no wonder we humbled their homeland so easily." He had fond memories of outwitting the entire high elf species.

And then Kael' thas appeared. Arthas turned to where he was and narrowed his eyes. "Pity I wasn't there to stop you." said the elf prince. "We met again, Arthas."

"Prince Kael' thas," said Arthas. "I wonder, have the rules of parley changed since I was last in Quel' thalas? How inconsiderate of you not to inform me."

"Fine words from one who murdered his own father," said Kael. "It hardly matters.

"What you faced here is only a scouting force. Defeating my army will be far more difficult."

"Where is Illidan?" asked Arthas.

"Newly employed in my service," said Kael, smiling. "In recognition of his friendship with you, I've agreed to give you a swift death when this is over. Our forces are vast, Arthas. Even now, they are assembled around Icecrown Glacier. Soon I will be able to control the scourge directly."

"And rule the undead, using them to establish your eternal dominion," said Arthas. "How very in the spirit of your race, Kael. Throwing other people's bodies at your problems is your greatest talent, after all."

"I am not you," said Kael. "Once I have broken the will of the Lich King, I will command the scourge to die.

"Every undead in this world, from the smallest ghoul to the most powerful lich, will commit suicide. An efficient solution that took my five minutes brainstorming.

"I'm surprised no one thought of it before now."

"Paladins... aren't very bright," said Arthas. Though he found them better company than elves.

"Well, it hardly matters now," said Kael' thas. "You'll never make it in time to save your precious cultists.

"Once they are destroyed, Quel'thalas will fill the power vacuum left by your absence. Consider this payment for Quel' Thalas... and other insults."

And he was gone.

Arthas sighed. "Well, we have a problem."

He'd gather what forces he could from this reason, then figure out how to get to Icecrown.


	11. Kalecgos

**Chapter Eleven: Kalecgos**

Arthas had run the numbers several times as he organized the shoring up of defenses. Several more skirmishes were fought with the Blood Elves, and these were inconclusive. He'd considered the distances from what he'd read in maps, then Kael'thas' capabilities.

At last, as the day wore on and a new bastion was established, he faced Anub'arak. "He's right. We'll never reach the glacier in time."

"There is another route we might take, death knight," noted Anub'arak. "The ancient, shattered kingdom of Azjol-Nerub lies deep below us. Though it has fallen on dark times, it could provide us a direct shortcut to the glacier."

"We have little choice," mused Arthas. "Lead on, Anub'arak."

And then, who showed up again, but Tyrygosa, lying down to land before them. Arthas reflected she looked very nice in leather. Especially her legs, and as he bowed, he admired her other assets. "I think I could help with that."

"Lady Tyrygosa, you've returned," said Arthas.

"Yes, Malygos has dispatched me to assist you in your journey. I know a means by which you could quickly bypass the defenses of our enemies," said Tyrygosa. "I can get you as far as Azjol Nerub, certainly. And I can provide you passage through the guardians who have set up shop there."

"Guardians?" asked Arthas.

"There is a large contingent of humans and dwarves who dwell there. They do on the orders of your former lieutenant, Falric," said Anub'arak. "Originally established as an outpost, he has made an alliance with my former subjects.

"They are unlikely to let us pass without a fight."

"They will if Lord Malygos commands it. His influence is strong," said Tyrygosa.

"Yes, because the will of the Dragon Aspects has proven itself to be beyond infallible in the past," noted Arthas.

Tyrygosa put two fingers to her brow. "If you accept my aid, you may pass unhindered. Ignore it, and you are sure to end up fighting your former comrades again."

Arthas smiled. "You make a persuasive argument, milady. But I doubt you can carry us all."

"Fortunately, there is a lair near here, where one of our most powerful kind resides," said Tyrygosa. "Sapphiron and his children are there. When you arrive, we will ferry you and as many soldiers as we can to Azjol Nerub."

"And what of the battle waging here?" asked Anub'arak.

"We've already bloodied Kael'thas' nose and a prolonged engagement, even if won, will not aid us," said Arthas. "Send word to all my subjects, tell them to go underground, and evade the elves.

We know this land far better than them, so it should prove simple.

"Soon enough, Kael'thas will have to pull back to deal with my arrival."

"It is a good plan." mused Anub'arak. "In that regard, there is good news. My agents have succeeded in convincing the Ice Trolls to begin practicing Necromancy. They have not yet broken with Falric's forces, but they have already sheltered many of our agents.

"Kael'thas would be a fool to attack while so protected."

"And he is not," noted Arthas. "Lead on, Tyrygosa."

Quickly setting things in order, Arthas left sure of his force's ability to hold their own. They journeyed north along the coast, with their forces in tow. Tyrygosa walked in her elven form, occasionally sending glances to Arthas. It was always when she thought he wasn't looking.

For his part, Arthas had questions of his own. This area was once a powerful stronghold of the undead, he remembered it from Muradin's maps. Eventually, he approached her. "So, Tyrygosa, this a far-flung lair to have established yourself in. How have you avoided being destroyed by the undead before now?"

"Sapphiron is a being of immense power, and at his disposal are many of the Blue Dragonborn," said Tyrygosa. "They have held out a long time against many threats, and they will long after you have come and gone." Arthas looked at her flatly. "...And, of course, your forces helped a great deal. Destroying Drak'theron Keep interfered with Ner'zhul's ability to wage war. And Archimonde's... intervention, was quite effective at sewing chaos."

"So, you've been in cooperation with my forces," noted Arthas. Or rather, his former forces.

"Leading them, actually," said Tyrygosa. "Malygos has created an alliance of many living races for the purpose of fighting the scourge. Now, with victory in sight, however, that alliance stands on difficult ground."

"Why?" asked Arthas, not liking the idea of Falric taking orders from anyone else.

"Hmm?" asked Tyrygosa.

"What are you doing to alienate those serving under you?" asked Arthas.

Tyrygosa flushed. "What makes you so certain it's our fault."

"You're the leader," said Arthas. "By definition, literally everything is your fault. Why do you think I put Falric in charge of my forces before I left. If I had remained the leader, it would have led to serious problems." Such as all of them being turned into undead, for one.

"The Blue Dragonflight has done everything for their betterment," replied Tyrygosa.

"A likely story," scoffed Anub'arak. "Making common cause with the Nerubians was a poor strategic move. Their situation was untenable, and you stretched your resources thin. Had Archimonde not appeared just then, your position might well have been overrun."

"The purpose of this alliance is to purge the undead from Northrend," said Tyrygosa.

"Did you clear that purpose with those who were part of this alliance?" asked Arthas, beginning to see where this was going.

"...Should we have to?" asked Tyrygosa. "We are their guardians, after all."

"Ah, I see. I'll take that as a no, then," said Arthas.

"That was what allowed me to get my hold on Zul'amon," said Anub'arak. "He and his frost trolls were enthusiastic about war with the undead. And they were willing to put aside their differences with old enemies to conquer new lands.

"However, they have no interest in dwelling underground. And had nothing to gain by helping the Nerubians. At that time, their position was largely secure, and they regarded the venture as a waste of resources."

"That was why we posted them on defenses," said Tyrygosa. "They were assigned to guard the border while the other fought in Azjol Nerub."

"Your defenses were on the verge of being destroyed by Ner'zhul. Then Archimonde came," noted Anub'arak. "I doubt they would have held. And they knew it."

"Who are you to have such an understanding of the Ice Trolls, creature?" asked Tyrygosa.

"I do not," replied Anub'arak. "It is a matter of historical record that to be united in hatred is no union at all."

"Far more than that unites all who live," replied Tyrygosa.

"The need to breathe?" guessed Arthas.

"The desire to preserve life," said Tyrygosa, as if that were profound.

Arthas was unimpressed. "Name one great figure in the history of this world who did not achieve his position through oceans of blood?"

Tyrygosa halted.d "I... well... that is...

"Ugh, why can't Kalec get this job!"

"Kalec?" asked Anub'arak before Arthas could inquire.

"My future mate, Malygos has been grooming him as a potential successor," said Tyrygosa. "He's been in command of the Blue Dragonflight armies. That makes him, technically, the commander in chief of the Dragon Alliance."

"Technically?" asked Arthas.

"Falric is a troublesome human who argues with every decision he makes," said Tyrygosa. "He's following orders in a way that goes along with what he thinks should be done. I suspect that it was he who subverted Zul'amon's loyalties. He is the only person Zul'amon will talk with now, and Falric has been using it to try and gain control for himself."

"Falric is an experienced soldier. He fought in every major battle of the Second War," replied Arthas. "He was an invaluable lieutenant in the Third War and is highly accomplished. If he believes that an idea is foolish, there is generally a good reason for it."

"And how do you even know he is the same man you knew then?" asked Tyrygosa. "You aren't."

Arthas reflected that she had a point. He and many others had been transformed by this miserable set of wars. Who's to say that Falric likewise hadn't gone mad, like some within Lordaeron. Though he had Marwynn with him and a great army. Arthas could not see it happening, even if he didn't deny it.

"We're here," said Tyrygosa.

The cave of Sapphiron was an immense one with carved pillars on either side. Bluescaled, centaur-like creatures guarded it, and Arthas could see several villages of them. As they entered, they found Sapphiron.

Arthas had thought Tyrygosa to be large; however, Sapphiron was immense. His tail alone was larger than Tyrygosa's dragon form. His head was the size of a carriage, and one of his eyes was the size of a shield. Lying down, he arose from an immense hoard of gold, pulled himself upward. Out of two side passages came two other, immense dragons.

The undead behind Arthas stepped back fearfully.

"You dare enter my lair?" said the voice, echoing through the entire chamber. "I am Sapphiron, ancient servant of Malygos the Spell-Weaver! Explain yourselves!"

Arthas put a hand to his sword, just in case. "Sorry, we don't have time to chat, great wyrm. We've come demand you provide free transportation to the gates of Azjol Nerub."

"Honesty, how refreshing," replied Sapphiron. "The preparations are all complete.

"General Kalec should be arriving alongside the others. You may wait outside."

Arthas nodded, and they moved back out. Sapphiron seemingly went back to sleep, while his sons went here and there. Sapphiron's sons were half his size, and large enough to perch on a mountaintop.

Meanwhile, the centaur-like creatures gave them a wide birth. For his part, Arthas focused on sending messages with Frostmourne. His forces had come across the naga and high elves and had several battles with them.

Drawing them back, he arranged the summoning of powerful defenses and led the clashes of ships at sea. These were an even fight as well, though he came out slightly, the better in the end. As he did, he looked up to where Tyrygosa was practicing her magic, and a question came to him. "To what end is Kalecgos coming here?"

Tyrygosa looked up. "He likely wanted to meet you personally.

"This is a great honor, Arthas. He's, well, you humans might view him as a Prince of the Blue Dragonflight."

"Your point? Anub'arak is a King, and so am," said Arthas, annoyed at being forced to sit out on the doorstep.

"Well, yes, but you must realize that a mortals rank as King means a lot less than a Dragon's equivalent," said Tyrygosa.

"Why?" asked Arthas flatly.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Tyrygosa. "We are immortal and naturally far wiser and more powerful. So it's only natural that, well, we ought to be regarded as higher than our mortal equivalents. With no disrespect intended."

"Why should I be considered an equivalent to any dragon?" asked Arthas. "Shall I list my credentials?"

"Well, yes, obviously you are very powerful for a human, but... nevermind, why don't we drop this." Tyrygosa shifted.

Soon enough, Kalecgos and the blue dragons did arrive. They came in a large group, flying in a v formation and descending down. In their talons were clasped great baskets meant for carrying people. Soon enough, they landed in the village, as Arthas oversaw the raising of new armies. Many bodies were taken from caches put aside for such a moment as this.

One of the blue dragons, larger than the others but otherwise unremarkable, took on human form. No, wait, it was actually elven form, and he was coming toward him. Tyrygosa ran toward him. "Kalec, you're finally here. I was beginning to get lonely without you."

"Not now, Tyry," said Kalecgos, moving past her.

Arthas realized Kalecgos was looking at him. Arthas glanced up and wondered what he wanted. "It's been a long time, Prince Arthas."

"King Arthas, thank you," replied Arthas, focusing on leading a group of lost ghouls back home. "And we've never met before."

"Um, yes, you have," said Tyrygosa.

Arthas blinked and looked up. "When?"

"In Dalaran," said Kalecgos.

"So you were in disguise as a student, then?" asked Arthas. "Was it when I was courting Jaina?"

"No, no, after that," said Tyrygosa.

"Oh, so he was helping Kael'thas in disguise when we were fighting the scourge," guessed Arthas. Perhaps one of his lieutenants?

"Before that," said Kalecgos through gritted teeth.

Arthas thought about the other situations he'd been at Dalaran for. "...So, you fought in the Siege of Dalaran in disguise?"

"You freed both of us, Arthas," said Tyrygosa.

"...I did?" asked Arthas. "I mean, I remember I freed you, but...

"Oh right, now I remember. You're that other dragon who I didn't kill." Right, Tyrygosa had made herself useful, so he'd come to regard the other one as a sort of sidekick.

"...Yes, yes I am," hissed Kalecgos.

"I lost hundreds of my men because of you," said Arthas, voice annoyed. "That delay you caused slowed down our advance and led to the gryphon riders tearing us to pieces in our retreat."

"They're just undead," scoffed Kalecgos. "You made more right after."

Arthas could tell they were going to get along just splendidly. "Kalec, is it?"

"My name is Kalecgos, Kalec is an abbreviation used by friends," replied Kalec.

"Ah, of course," said Arthas. "Perhaps we should discuss the situation. What do you know about what Kael'thas is doing, and how is he doing it?"

"I have several things to tell you, actually," said Kalecgos. "First off, Kael'thas has uncovered a vast body of an ancient dragon. One greater than any dragon to ever lived named Galakron. Even now, his warlocks, under the leadership of Illidan, are working to resurrect it."

"How large is this creature?" asked Arthas.

"Large enough that we need to finish our business soon," said Kalecgos. "Ner'zhul, of course, worked for years to resurrect the beast. However, he never had powerful enough subordinates to make it work.

"With Illidan, the succubus Kirrasan, and Vashj, he has all he needs."

"None of them are necromancers. I would know, I worked with most of them," said Arthas.

"Many of the undead in the north have declared for Kael'thas," said Kalecgos. "I doubt they will come to his aid if things go against him. But it seems he has succeeded in partially dominating Ner'zhul."

"I doubt it," said Arthas.

"Do you have a better idea?" asked Tyrygosa.

"Ner'zhul was tortured for years by Kil'jaden, and that did not break his will," said Arthas. "Kael'thas would not fair better in a month. I find it far more likely that Ner'zhul is playing the long game.

"Likely he is negotiating with Kael'thas, giving him partial control of the scourge. Perhaps in the hopes of turning the tables at an opportune moment."

Tyrygosa nodded. "What he's saying makes sense, Kalec. And it would fit with Ner'zhul's style. Corrupt and conquer."

"What he's saying..." began Kalecgos. "May I remind you that he's a warrior, not a mage. What could he know about mental domination?"

"How many Lich King's have you broken free of, Kalecgos?" asked Arthas. "Either way, it doesn't change our present priority. Get me to Azjol Nerub, and I'll deal with the rest."

"Before we can begin transporting anything, we'll need to secure this area," said Kalec. "The elves and naga have bastions here, and we need to root them out."

"Not really, you can fly us straight there," said Arthas.

"One trip, perhaps, but it only a matter of time before they catch on," said Kalec. "When that happens, they'll intercept us."

"I only need one trip. Most of my forces are remaining behind," said Arthas. "Taking them through Azjol Nerub would be far too difficult and would slow us down. I intend to make use of those forces I can gather beyond the mountains."

Kalecgos stared at him. "...Have you lost your mind?"

"Why do people keep asking that?" asked Arthas, not really to anyone in particular. "Do they think I'm qualified to give an answer."

"You're about to face the combined might of the Naga and the High Elves. And you mean to leave most of your forces behind," said Kalecgos. "They won't be any use here."

Arthas looked at him flatly. "They will be shoring up my current defenses instead of floundering around in the tunnels. If I wholly abandon this region, I'll lose it for good. When I get to Icecrown Glacier, I will make do with what forces remain in the region."

"Can you truly be that petty?" asked Kalecgos. "If Kael'thas becomes the next Lich King, it won't just be the end of the scourge, it could be a new dark age for all of Azeroth!"

"Yes, very convenient for you," said Arthas. "The scourge gives up its territory saving the world. Then the orcs and humans, having learned nothing, take everything that used to belong to us without a struggle. We're all dead, and none of you have to leave your comfortable, wrong beliefs.

"Less convenient for me, however.

"Perhaps you could force us to sign away our moral rights in exchange for transportation. It might make you sleep more easily."

"You did that when you decided to become undead," snapped Kalecgos. "Your 'subjects' are abominations of nature. It would be a mercy to let them be destroyed."

Arthas sighed. "...Tell your forces to stand by for their only run. We're leaving and soon."

"...Whatever you want," said Kalecgos.

It was time to brave the darkness and pray his subjects could hold out.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I sincerely apologize for the delay. The Warcraft Reforged fiasco has done more than make me stop playing Warcraft III. It's damaged my ability and motivation to have anything to do with Blizzard in general. I can't even bring myself to open their games without a mental struggle anymore.

In the end, all that keeps me going is a desire to liberate Azeroth from them, so to speak.

On a separate note, I think I've found something I hate more than Kalecgos.

Writing Kalecgos.

Most Blizzard characters have some semblance of personality I can expand outward, but Kalec just... doesn't. There's nothing special about him. Nothing that he provides that couldn't have been done by any other Gary Sue.

He's just... slightly smug, and that's all.

So I'm only able to judge him purely on the basis of his actions.

So what are his actions?

Well, he cheated on his fiancee, Tyrygosa, with Anveena. He acted smug once or twice to Jorad. Then when Anveena died, he started picking fights with other young males. Then he got promoted to Dragon Aspect for letting the adventurers murder Malygos. At which point he promptly failed to stop Garrosh from getting WMD's and went crying to Jaina.

All culminating in him getting romantically involved with Jaina and talking her out of ending the war. Before dumping her immediately afterward like a one night stand.

So yeah. While Kalecgos' personality is bland, his actions are that of an ineffectual slimeball.

And now I'd like to put away the standard author's note and send a message to everyone living under the coronavirus:

Stay strong.

I realize that being trapped in quarantine is incredibly stressful. And I'm sure all of us want to get back to the way things were, but we have to stay where we are. It's the only way we'll be able to beat this disease.

I say this because I suspect that we are approaching a lull.

When people are forced into quarantine, there comes a period where the disease dies down a bit. Or, more likely, the disease appears to die down. The government may even encourage people to go out and spend money again to restart the economy.

DO. NOT. LISTEN.

You should remain in quarantine even if your government tells you it's all clear. Remember that the government is under pressure to reopen businesses. Many people in power would prefer to see a few thousand extra people die, then the stock market dip a percent. They will almost certainly lift restrictions far earlier than they should. This will, in turn, lead to a second wave that kills even more people.

If I'm wrong, you lose nothing. If I'm right, you may very well save your family from getting sick.

Remember that by observing quarantine, you are not just protecting yourself. You are also protecting everyone you come in contact with. Wash your hands, wear a mask, and take all precautions. If every single one of us does everything we can to stay safe, we will drastically shorten the lifespan of this virus.

Also, if you're religious, say a prayer for the people in the third world.

Much of the third has a much denser population. They also have far weaker health care and almost no means of detecting the virus at all. I suspect that even now, it has taken hold of large parts of the population. There do not have as good a diet, so their immune systems are weaker. Combined with other diseases, no means of isolating, the death toll will be far worse. And foreign aid will be nearly impossible in these circumstances.

No matter how bad we have it, they almost certainly have it far worse.

Just... keep it in mind, okay.


	12. Journey to the Mountain

**Chapter Twelve: Journey to the Mountain**

The lands of Northrend had a certain desolate beauty below them.

Arthas gazed down upon the broken, frozen land far below. The beat of Tyrygosa's wings resounded around him. Mentally, he directed his men below to battle, fighting elves and naga in the battles below. The combat was dragging out now to a war of attrition, and that gave Arthas the advantage.

Still, a lull had come in the fighting, and he felt a sense of unbearable frustration.

How long was he going to have to fight these endless battles? He'd thought he was nearing the end of things when he destroyed the Dreadlords. But it seemed he'd be fighting for the rest of his life.

Depending on how things went, that could be a very long or short period of time. Still, he decided not to dwell on this. Glancing up to Anub'Arak, he smiled. The Crypt Lord was looking a bit uncomfortable within the baskets. "Well, this is quite a sight, isn't it? Have you ever seen anything like this, Anub'Arak?"

"No," said Anub'Arak. "My area of expertise until now has been focused on the underground, and I have rarely left it."

"Well, you have now," said Arthas.

"So I have," said Anub'Arak. "I do not think I wish to repeat the experience."

"Look there!" cried a cultist. "Dragonhawks!"

Arthas glanced up. Sure enough, saw the Dragonhawks of Quel'Thalas coming toward them. They golden feathered creatures flew forward, with elven riders on their backs. Bolts of magical energy surged toward the Blue Dragons. However, they veered away and breathed frost in turn.

"Damn it, Kael'thas was waiting for us," said Arthas.

Then, just before the battle could be joined, a vast storm of snow flowered between the two of the sides. The Dragonhawks were forced to draw back, and Arthas saw them fleeing away. For minute after minute, a vast blizzard churned, keeping back their enemies.

"A blizzard," said Anub'Arak.

"You do not think we lack the ability to use Northrend for our own advantage, do you?" asked Tyrygosa, flying beside them. "The Dragonhawks will not pass us."

The blizzard lasted for perhaps an hour, yet it did not deter the Blue Dragonflight. They flew on and on, and eventually got into far rockier terrain. Wherever they looked, Arthas saw many strange creatures walking. Vast, savage looking things like centaurs. They wielded huge weapons.

Some waved their weapons threateningly at them, but the Blue Dragons ignored them.

At last, they touched down, coming to rest before a great pass. Arthas stepped out of the basket alongside his forces. Anub'Arak lumbered out as well, stretching a bit as he dropped on the snow drenched ground.

"So, here we are at last at the pass," said Tyrygosa. "I hope you know what you're doing, Arthas."

Arthas considered the possible results if he did not know what he was doing. If he lost here, the results could easily be... disastrous. From a utilitarian perspective, he ought to have brought his forces to bear, no matter the cost. But then, a utilitarian perspective had gotten them into this mess.

"Believe me, so do I," said Arthas. "Though I do not see the entrance."

"We can't take you any further," said Tyrygosa. "The Dragonhawks are out in force, and we've had many near misses. Malygos is calling us back."

"Very well then," said Arthas. "Thank you for taking us this far."

Tyrygosa nodded. "Farewell."

Then she kicked up and flew away. Kalecgos scoffed and did the same alongside the others. Arthas looked at Anub'Arak and his honor guard and sighed. "You're certain we can reach the glacier through these tunnels?"

"Nothing is certain, death knight," said Anub'Arak. "The ruins will be perilous, but it's worth the risk."

"All right. Let's go," said Arthas.

It was an oddly familiar journey they took now.

Something about the way they walked within the craggy stones stuck in Arthas' memory. Had he been here before, in these icy hills? No, no, he had not. But the situation was similar.

Glancing to Frostmourne, he realized he was leaving his men once again. Once again, to seek a desperate hope at salvation because that had worked out so well last time.

Except it had.

Archimonde was dead; the Legion shattered as a result of him taking up Frostmourne. If he hadn't, they might have beaten the Legion. But the Legion's high command would remain strong. Yes, Lordaeron would be standing, but...

Lordaeron would be standing. So would a great many other places.

Did it matter if Arthas killed all of his enemies if Azeroth was left a ruined and dissected husk? What achievement was it to kill a Dark Lord if all that you loved was destroyed by him first? The Dragon Aspects seemed to think that it was one, but...

Well, Medivh said that many other worlds would survive because of Archimonde's death. But who was to say he was right? Medivh had been wrong about many things, and he was only interested in the safest path. If everyday people fought for the right, Archimonde would die anyway. Archimonde had been injured, and if he had been faced by a unified front, some great hero might have defeated him.

Why was it necessary for the races of Azeroth to sacrifice everything? From their homeland to their very identity to kill him? And if they had to do that, didn't it mean the Burning Legion was right? If good could only triumph temporarily over evil and at irreparable cost, what did it mean? Combine it with evil, always coming back stronger; then evil was stronger. And if there were evil factions, the good must ally with, who grew in power and never paid for their crimes...

Then wasn't good just a tool for the wicked? Didn't good exist as a peasant does to a lord. A stupid, slow, but useful tool to be utilized and then thrown aside. A brute who existed to benefit an aristocracy who knew better than to believe in such things as justice.

Arthas remembered Theramore and how it was doomed to be destroyed.

In Medivh's ideal future, Lordaeron ceased to exist. Its people were exterminated by the orcs, down to the last child. Not because they had disobeyed the instructions. Why wouldn't they be? They had outlived their. The only colonies that survived were the ones Arthas founded against his wishes. Medivh had promised salvation to the Horde. But he'd only proclaimed to the Alliance that they were doomed if they stayed in Lordaeron.

He hadn't mentioned they'd only be given a delay in their execution if they went to Kalimdor. The Prophet had literally brought Jaina west to die. Arthas imagined a future where he had succumbed fully to the Lich King.

What would have happened then?

Visions of never-ending carnage-filled his gaze. A world where victory was shallow and hollow. A place where the same, meaningless speeches were paraded around over and over again.

Sudden anger filled Arthas. Why was it that good people had to pay the price for wicked men's sins? The orcs had sought the complete extermination of this entire world. Not out of any compulsion, but because they ruined their own. The Cult of the Damned, meanwhile, was raised from the desperate. Peasants and persecuted people who the Alliance had abused and failed. How was it fair for the orcs salvation to be a priority to the point where entire worlds must die. But the Cult of Damned was to be annihilated completely.

No.

Arthas would not concede defeat.

He would not abandon his principles as inconvenient to the greater good. Nor would forget grievous atrocities to his people. Nor would he forgive those who had not even admitted to their misdeeds. The Scourge had a right to exist, just as the Alliance and Horde did.

And he would ensure their survival.

Why was he thinking about this? It changed absolutely nothing. And anyway, Arthas had done his fair share of atrocities as well. How was it fair for him to pass judgment when he was hardly better.

Arthas decided that he was glad he'd left the bulk of his forces behind. Even if he failed, he was certain they'd find a way to survive and thrive. He'd already won them several victories while on this journey.

"We've been walking for hours," said Arthas. "We've got to quicken our pace. Kael'thas may grow still more powerful while we wander."

"I left many of my warriors on the outskirts Icecrown before I came to find you, death knight," said Anub'Arak. "They will keep the enemy occupied while we come to reinforcements."

"Tell me, where are all of your people?" asked Arthas. "Shouldn't there be nerubians around here-undead or otherwise?" They neared a set of ground doors built into the mountain, engraved with many strange symbols.

"You may thank Captain Falric for that," said Anub'Arak.

And then the doors were flung open, and many dwarves with guns trained them on them. Others emerged from the rocks and trailed them downrange. "You can thank us, ye rotting bastards! We've been watching ye all along!"

"Muradin's dwarves," said Arthas with a sigh. "I might have guessed." Mentally, he urged his men to take cover behind some nearby stones while facing them down.

The dwarf scowled at him and raised his gun. "We've been wandering this forsaken land ever since you tried to kill Muradin and left us to rot, Arthas. Our leader, Baelgun, led us into the ruined city to survive."

"But there's no way we're letting you in!" said another.

And then someone apparently decided to open fire. There was a bang; smoke kicked up and a lot of other bangs. One of the shocks bounced off Arthas' shoulder pad as he ducked for cover. Invincible neighed and leaped behind the rocks as well.

Hitting the ground, he plunged into the snow as more bullets smashed into the stone walls. Anub'Arak went for the rocks, unable to duck low and was hit several times. Not that it helped any.

Quickly crawling across the ground to cover, Arthas slipped behind the stones. Bringing up Frostmourne, he glanced at the blade in annoyance and waited for the guns to stop.

They did not stop. In fact, a bunch of other dwarves came by and starting firing as well. And someone apparently was feeling festive, because they brought in beer.

"For Khaz Modan!"

"Kill 'em all twice, that's what I say!"

"This is for Muradin, ye bastards!"

"A pint for every ghoul ye blast!"

"Shoot anything that shuffles or skitters!"

"Shall we attack, Death Knight?" asked Anub'Arak.

"No, don't bother," said Arthas. "At the rate they are firing, they'll run out of ammunition in an hour or two. We'll suffer fewer casualties this way, and they can't have supply lines."

And then Arthas glanced back and saw them bringing up mortars. Loading shells they launched. The first of them smashed into the ground, leaving craters. Soon the dwarves were starting to get nearer to the mark.

"Shall we pull back?" asked Anub'Arak.

"They might pursue us," mused Arthas. "If so, we could catch them in an ambush. I had hoped to avoid massacring them, but they did shoot first." Looking at Frostmourne, he motioned to Anub'Arak.

"Hold where you are, stop it now!" said a very familiar voice. "Stop wasting the ammo! We've little enough of it as it is!

"Bloody hell, didn't you get the message from Proudmoore! We're not fighting these undead; we're neutral!"

Hmm, so Jaina had been busy then, hadn't she? What had she done to manage this? Either way, Arthas pulled himself up and saw a familiar, blonde-bearded dwarf. He was making his way across the field under the flag of parley. Motioning to Anub'Arak, Arthas stood up and moved toward his old friend.

Arthas considered begging for forgiveness, but he didn't really feel any remorse. The Alliance had more or less had its fall coming for years. Besides, it wasn't as if anyone had given him the opportunity to abandon his wicked deeds.

The Paladin Order had jumped at the chance to butcher him.

Frankly, Arthas thought he'd handled things fairly well. Everyone he'd killed had been in a fair battle. And Uther had been a rebel against his legal authority as King. Father hadn't had any idea what he was doing anyway.

Besides, if he hadn't done as he'd done, things would have been much worse. So said the Gods of this world. Still, how to approach this?

Ah, yes, how he automatically approached self-righteous people presuming to judge him.

Muradin scowled at him. "It's been a long time, Arthas."

"Muradin..." said Arthas with a rueful smile. "Doesn't anyone stay dead anymore?"

Muradin punched him in the face.

This was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?


	13. Old Friends

**Chapter Thirteen: Old Friends**

Muradin punched Arthas in the face.

The blow hit him upside the head, and he was flung back onto the snows. A rowdy cheer came from the dwarves, even as the undead started forward. Arthas raised a hand and motioned quickly. As he did, they slowed, and he rose up.

His lip was bleeding. Wiping it away, Arthas looked at Muradin. "Granted, I probably deserved that."

"You don't seem very apologetic," said Muradin.

"I refuse to accept accountability for my actions out of principle," said Arthas. "Blame destiny if you want to complain."

"You left me to die, Arthas!" snapped Muradin.

"I healed you, didn't I," said Arthas.

"You abandoned me in an icy vault and left me lying, after you got me speared by ice," snapped Muradin in a fury. "I wandered for two weeks without memory or idea of who I was. If I hadn't run into some local dwarves, I'd have been food for the beasts."

"Right, but you did run into some local dwarves," noted Arthas. "So things worked out. Wait, what dwarves? I wasn't aware of any lived in this land beyond the colonists."

"A group called the Frostborn, distant cousins of my people of Ironforge," said Muradin. "They took me in, and I led them into battle. Called me, Yorg Stormheart, and I ended up leading them."

"Your welcome," said Arthas with a shrug.

"You're standing in front of me at the head of an undead army, wielding a soul-eating runeblade!" shouted Muradin. "And now acting as if you did me a favor by leaving me for dead!

"What's happened to you, Arthas?! Don't you care for anything anymore!"

"No, not really," admitted Arthas.

Muradin halted. "What?"

"I quit with the emotional investment thing a while back," said Arthas sadly. "The world we live in is a bleak, corrupted mess, doomed to eternally descend into worse horrors. The best anyone can hope for is to die before their entire existence turns out to only cause further horror.

People keep harping on how I'm incredibly guilty and evil. But if I hadn't done what I did, the whole world would have ended. And the orcs got a blank check."

"You mean the alliance in Kalimdor," asked Muradin. "I heard about that. Didn't understand much of what was told, though."

"Oh, there was this really flimsy plan to redeem the orcish race," said Arthas. "Never going to amount to anything. They'll probably try to burn down Theramore in a few years, and then I'll head west to tell Jaina 'I told you so.' Then I'll be fighting the Horde for a few years or so.

"So, are you going to let me in, or are we going to kill eachother?"

Muradin shrugged. "I suppose I might as well.

"Falric gave orders for us to take your side in all this anyway."

"But Muradin-" began a dwarf.

"Let it pass, Baelgun," said Muradin. "Open the gates, lads! They aren't friends, but we aren't killing eachother at the moment!"

And so the undead made their way through the great gates as they opened. Not that the dwarves let their guard down. Loaded muskets were pointed at them as they walked. Even Muradin kept giving Arthas wary glances.

Fortunately, Arthas did not care.

The caverns that Muradin had made his camp in were dark, lit only by torches and strange gems on the walls. Crates of supplies were piled against dark, tiled floors. As he walked, Arthas realized this place was of a similar design to Drak'theron Keep. Now and then, they came to passages that had been collapsed. There were also bridges leading over sentient made canals. And the ceiling was very, very, high.

"So, tell me, what is your relationship with Prince Kael'thas?" asked Arthas, impressed by the caverns.

"Ah, he and his boys came through Northrend a while back," said Muradin. "They made all kinds of supply lines and wanted us to help them destroy the Lich King. Falric was against it, though; he wanted a war of attrition.

"But the rest of us talked him into leading a force with them. Falric went up north with him to Icecrown and a large troop. Of course, it didn't turn out to be necessary.

"The Lich King let Kael'thas walk right in. I'm guessing Kael'thas was a backup plan after you went off the rails."

"And where is Falric now?" asked Arthas. He remembered he'd charged the Captain with taking care of the men. And he'd by all accounts fulfilled that duty perfectly.

Arthas hoped he was alright, and that he wouldn't have to fight him.

"Don't know," said Muradin. "Communication has had a complete blackout lately. Malygos has largely been communicating with Kael'thas' embassies."

"And Jaina?" asked Arthas.

"She's here?" asked Muradin. "What's the lass doing with you?"

"I take it, then, that you've heard no word of her arrival," mused Arthas. "Strange, she ought to have been heard of."

"Well," said Muradin. "The Blue Flight doesn't communicate much with us beyond what we need to know. So she might have met with him already and just never come here yet. Ever since Falric left, Malygos has been giving all the orders."

"What about Marywynn?" asked Arthas.

"For the most part," said Muradin. "Marywynn sticks to the coast and managing affairs and practice playing the role of king. Him and that Faldine lass."

Arthas nodded, feeling pleased things were going so well. Suppose things continued in this vein. Perhaps he could establish a powerbase in Northrend easily. Though that depended on how much his men knew, and who had told it to them. "How much do you know about what has happened beyond these lands?"

"Malygos kept us generally informed on events in Lordaeron and Kalimdor," said Muradin. "Your men, though, they've formed a bit of a cult of personality around you. You can't talk with some of them anymore."

"What of the Nerubians?" asked Arthas, glancing at Anub'arak. "Anub'arak tells me you've made common cause with them?"

"Ah yes, turns out they carved out all these tunnels. They have been fighting against the scourge for years," said Muradin. "That and... older things. Supposedly some ancient Dark God, Yogg Saron, dwells beneath the surface of this land. And he's always trying to reach his tendrils up out of the earth to get em. Not personable folk, but we've been able to limit the scourge's movements.

"Course, now that Kael'thas is in charge, they're less pleased. No one is very happy about having him in charge. They're afraid that we'll turn on them."

"And will you?" asked Arthas.

"Of course not," said Muradin with a shrug. "The Alliance doesn't exist anymore, and we're not inclined to let anyone be Lich King. However, some of the High Elves are in favor of working with him. Actually, there's a debate as to whether the Alliance has ceased to exist, or just broken up."

Arthas nodded then looked to Anub'arak. "Anub'arak, can you lead us through the passages?"

Anub'arak nodded. "There are many passages through the labyrinth, death knight. And I know them all."

"That much I guessed," said Muradin.

"Do you foresee the Nerubians will be a problem?" asked Arthas.

"Many of us fell during the War of the Spider were brought back to serve the Lich King," said Anub'arak. "Those you call Nerubians, however, never died. Foolishly, they still fight to liberate Nerub from the Scourge.

"We will probably be attacked if we walk in their domain. They hate us, me especially."

"Well, I'd better go with you, if only to smooth things over," said Muradin.

Eventually, they came into an area with a lower ceiling. It looked to have been designed for storage, with number pits for boxes. Many of them were filled. "This place looks like an old storage silo," mused Arthas.

"Yeah, we keep a lot of our equipment here," said Muradin. "Excellent workmanship this. The architecture, I mean."

"We Nerubians were crafty engineers in our time," said Anub'arak, a hint of pride in his voice.

"That you were," admitted Muradin. "Still, there may be a way to avoid any encounters with yer old people. If we take some of the older, deeper passages-"

"That is utter foolishness," said Anub'arak quickly.

"They are virtually uninhabited, Anub'arak," said Muradin. "I've checked some of them myself and talked to the Nerubians."

"For good reason," said Anub'arak. "None of us dare dwell in those places, and most were sealed long ago to keep the Faceless Ones contained."

"Faceless Ones?" asked Arthas.

"An ancient terror, similar in stature to humans. But they go without faces or real intellect," said Anub'arak. "They are more extensions of the Old Gods will than true entities in themselves. Yet their numbers are legion, and they serve Yogg Saron, God of Death."

"Would you rather slaughter a legion of Faceless Ones?" asked Arthas. "Or a legion of your allies and your own people?"

"They have not been my people for many ages," mused Anub'arak. "Yet I take your point. Dwarf, where are these passages?"

"Don't you know? You were the King of this place?" asked Arthas.

"Do you know the layout of every castle in Lordaeron, Death Knight?" asked Anub'arak.

"I suppose not," said Arthas. "But, I never claimed to."

"A... poetic exaggeration," said Anub'arak. "It would be more accurate to say I have extensive knowledge of the general layout. However, new tunnels are being dug all the time."

Arthas nodded. "...Where is Jaina? She should have come back to us at some point."

"Perhaps she has been killed," mused Anub'arak.

Arthas felt a surge of anger at the mere suggestion. "Kael'thas would never kill someone in parley. Let alone Jaina, of all people.

"And it would be political suicide.

"Come, let's find the tunnels and make out way beneath the surface."

"Right, lad," said Muradin. "Course, I can't help you with the actual fight when you get there. Deniability and all that. But I can help you on your way."

"You seem to have dropped your accusations of guilt quickly," said Arthas.

"Oh, I'll read you the riot act soon enough, lad," said Muradin. "But at the moment, we've got more important things to worry about."

"How nice to have someone with perspective," said Arthas.

* * *

Jaina Proudmoore looked very beautiful, sleeping in her crystal prison.

The girl Kael'thas had courted in Dalaran had grown up, filling out even more than she had at the time. Her long, beautiful blonde hair was frozen in time. There she was, floating around her as her hand raised for a counterspell. One she'd never had a chance to finish.

He'd placed it upon Icecrown Spire, where none save his inner circle was allowed to go.

"What news, Illidan?" asked Kael'thas.

Illidan Stormrage had walked quietly, but his presence was unmistakable. He and Vashj looked at one another, then back. "Arthas has gone beneath the earth now. Even now, he is descending through the old tunnels of Azjol Nerub. I suspect he is receiving aid from Anub'arak, and elements of his own forces."

"I see," said Kael'thas. "I had hoped Muradin would be wise enough to stop him, but it seems our former allies are neutral, or worse. No matter.

"We have the power to delay them, at least.

"And a delay is all we need."

Taking the Helm of Dominion and donning it, he felt the power surge through him. Raising a hand, he sent forth his will deep into the earth. There he sensed the horrific presence far below. It was clawing at reality, trying to get free.

"What will you do, Kael?" asked Vashj.

"The Lich King is more than the controlling power of the Scourge," said Kael. "It is also a Nexus for the spirits of Northrend. It has power over elements, thanks to Ner'zhul's memories.

"I shall tear open a rift in the depths of the earth and let the Old Ones in."

"Do you think that will stop him?" asked Illidan doubtfully.

"I think that one will kill the other, yes," said Kael. "And if Arthas is victorious, it will play into our own strategy. If not, Yogg Saron is an enemy; we will have to fight eventually anyway." The barrier, far below, broke, and he sensed the horrors streaming out of it.

With any luck, his enemies would destroy one another. Without it, well, the Nerubians were expendable. "Illidan, would you say that our truce with the Dragon Aspects is now broken?"

"Beyond a doubt," said Illidan. "I suspected Malygos was only stalling you."

"And you were correct," said Kael'thas. "I had hoped to bring them over to my way of thinking. Even so, I think I know what course of action they'll take next. With the growing threat, they'll call a council, as usual.

"The time has come to move forward with our plans." Stretching forth a hand, he chipped away, little by little at the entrance. The gates shattered, and the horrors streamed forth all the more numerous. "Arise... ancient creatures of Azeroth long past. Arise... Yogg Saron!"

"The rift is broken," said Vashj. "Our enemies will soon be fighting one another."

"I am well aware," said Kael. "Kirrasan, have you located the resting place of C'thun yet?"

Kirrasan said nothing.

Kael looked over to where she was chuckling to herself while reading a book. The fact that she was leaning against Jaina's prison seemed poor taste. "Kirrasan?"

"Oh, sorry, I was just reading a good book I found in Jaina's pack," said Kirrasan. "I haven't had a chance to read this novel since time began."

"Answer the question," said Kael'thas.

"Yes, yes, everything is in order," said Kirrasan. "I can loose the collar on C'thun anytime you want."

"Do it," said Kael'thas. "I want an all-out war between him and the Horde before the day is out."

"Kael'thas, unleashing C'Thun on Kalimdor could cause unfathomable destruction," said Illidan. "Even if the Horde wins, countless innocents could be slaughtered."

"Are we allied with any of them?" asked Kael'thas.

"Well... no," said Illidan.

"Then why should we care?" asked Kael'thas. "C'thun has no foothold, and sentient races have advanced massively since he was last here. In a worst-case scenario, his forces will be weakened while devastating our enemies. Theramore and the Night Elves are both geographically isolated. No permenant damage will be sustained.

"And we need to draw out the Old Gods at some point if we're going to achieve this plan. I'd much rather it happen on my own terms."

"Still," said Vashj. "It would be better for our plans if the Horde defeats C'thun than the other way around. Perhaps we could send them some advance warning so they can mobilize."

"Very well then," said Kael'thas. "Do it."

"Kael'thas," said Vashj suddenly. "I do not like taking Lady Proudmoore captive in parley in this fashion. It seems far too much like something a Night Elf would do."

"You can set your mind at ease," said Kirrasan. "Kirrasan captured her while en route, and we didn't technically know that she was here to meet with us. So we merely intercepted an enemy leader while en route to another enemy leader. Malygos.

"She would never have approved of what we did to get here anyway," mused Kael'thas. "Jaina would never understand the need. With her out of commission, Daelin Proudmoore will have control of Theramore. He might not be going to war with the Horde, but I'm certain he'll welcome the chance to watch them die."

Finally, Kirrasan shut the book. "Okay, Kael, that's it. I have to ask. What exactly is our plan with all this? I haven't been at any of the meetings before now, so I'm out of the loop."

"The only one worth pursuing," said Kael'thas simply. "The complete, total, and absolute eradication of every potential threat to my people. The Burning Legion, the Old Gods, the Horde, the Void Lords, will be dead by the time this story is complete."

There was a long silence for a moment.

"...What about Deathwing?" asked Vashj.

Kael'thas took off the Helm of Dominion and sighed. "Damn it; I knew I forgot something. Alright, let's just assume he'll after the Old Gods are sacrificed. If not, one of you handle."

"How are you going to sacrifice the Old Gods?" asked Kirrasan, blinking in surprise. "And how are you going to take out the Void Lords at the same time?"

And then Kael'thas told her the plan.


End file.
